


Unprecedented Is My Middle Name

by WritingPains



Series: The Human Construct Of Age [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Black Widow - Freeform, Captain America - Freeform, Hawkeye - Freeform, Hulk - Freeform, Iron Man - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-03-04 07:37:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 36,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13359597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingPains/pseuds/WritingPains
Summary: In the aftermath of 'Death was not on my agenda', Tony is dealing with the side-affects of whatever turned him twelve, and the team are dealing with the symptoms of Tony's personality.They have to fight the law, help Bucky in his untimely moment of need and give Tony the love and care that he so desperately thinks he doesn't deserve.





	1. That's ridiculous, even for us.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so first of all - I'm a total prude. I will write a few dirty jokes every now and then, but I will not write sexually explicit scenes, and therefore will never consider writing relationships into my stories.  
> Second - Beware. I've decided to really embrace my vocabulary in this sequel, so there will be swear words galore, and some of them will be words used mostly in the UK. Don't feel intimidated by our beautiful language and eloquent ways we describe people. (I joke, I joke). But the swearing warning is totally here.
> 
>  
> 
> Ok, so hello again.  
> I've worked out a plot, but I'm one of those writers who changes the story as I feel fit, so there's a high chance it will not follow my meticulously thought out timeline.  
> I'm happy to take any kind of recommendations, because I'm sure I can fit in anyone's idea's into the story and keep it on the right track.  
> Please feel free to comment with whatever you're thinking.
> 
> If you read the first one and are here - Thank you. I really appreciate that people have taken the time to read what I've done and even sometimes leaving 'kudos'. It makes my heart swell just slightly larger every morning when I see the stats increasing. You're all the best, and just seeing that extra number means a lot to little old me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony argues with the avengers, because arguing is fun and so why not?

So, the avengers are monumentally pissed, that much is obvious as he’s thrown unceremoniously over Captain Arseholes shoulder and carried back into the building. They’re choosing to ignore his screams of rage and attempts to escape. The media circus outside have gone wild, and there’s something to be said about the state of the world when they so easily accept that the smartest man alive, who had been thought dead for the past three years, is now a twelve-year-old boy.  
He feels a small amount of smug pride that no matter how annoyed they are, there’s no undoing the damage he has inflicted. Maybe now they can accept him for who he is, rather than pretending that he’s some kind of incompetent child. Do they not know that by the time he was this age the first time, he’d been looking after himself for years, built multiple computers, engines and robots that they couldn’t do even now? Do they not understand that he was forced into adulthood before his tenth birthday, and this time around he actually is an adult?  
Evidently not, because the moment they enter the communal floor, Tony is thrown down onto the sofa and the rest of the team stand around him, towering over him in an imposing manner with their arms crossed and their mouths taught. Tony offers them a shit-eating grin and cocks a lone eyebrow.  
“You’re a little late for hair and make-up guys, but I’ll forgive you if you pour me a nice-”  
“Shut. Up.”  
Tony’s smile drops at the sound of Steve’s voice being so low and furious. He unconsciously leans away from the man, as though he’s worried about being hit, although he knows it’s ridiculous. Clearly being this age again has brought back many carefully repressed memories, and that’s just another thing he wholeheartedly hates about this situation. All the way up there with how the avengers feel like they can tell him what to do.  
“What were you thinking?” Steve asks, imploringly. “You were supposed to keep a low profile. Do those words means anything to you?”  
“Can we just accept that at no point was I told not to do that.”  
“Some things are simply implied, Tony, and you’re too smart not to know that,” Clint tells him, in a rare use of his ‘taking no nonsense’ tone. “What were you thinking?”  
“I’m thinking,” Tony replies, his voice acidic and his eyes hard, “that you guys have no right to try and take control over my life. I mean really? Giving Captain Spangles guardianship of me? That’s ridiculous, even for us.”  
“Not just us, Tony,” Phil says as he returns, looking more haggard than he had less than an hour ago. “The law has specific rules that need to be adhered to. We’re about to enter a storm, guys, and we need to prepare ourselves.”  
Everyone looks towards Phil, and for a brief moment, Tony sees his opportunity to escape. He flips over the side of the couch with agility his older self would have been envious, and he makes a run for the elevator. Unfortunately, even with his youthful energy and their diverted attention, Tony isn’t strong enough. He knows this because when he’s a foot away from the doors to freedom, he’s lifted from the floor and carried back. Clint sits down with Tony next to him, his arm still wrapped around his waist, holding him in his place.  
Tony is horrified, and he does his best to escape the hold, but no amount of wiggling and squirming seems to remedy this. Tony shoots Clint an affronted look, and without any control over it, he realises that he’s pouting too.  
“Let me go, birdbrain,” he orders.  
“Not a chance. I can’t believe you tried to run away from a room of super heroes.”  
“The only thing you’re super at is sucking!” Tony shouts, in a juvenile attempt to offend, though it sounds weak even to his own ears.  
“Not something I’ve had the chance to test out,” Clint laughs, making Steve blush.  
“Steve is no longer Tony’s legal guardian, and there is going to be a case to find an appropriate replacement tomorrow.”  
Tony freezes, and blinks a few times.  
“No. They know who I am now. They should be letting me take care of myself.”  
Coulson laughs and shakes his head, shocked by Tony’s naivety. Clearly his regression has been more than physical.  
“Your case is substantially unprecedented, which means there is still due process to be had. Legally, you cannot be considered an adult, and you cannot be emancipated at twelve, especially if you have a history of drinking and drug taking problems. Did you honestly think this would all be ignored because of who you are?”  
Tony is almost scared to admit that this is exactly what he thought. He’d just assumed that coming forward as himself would offer sufficient evidence that he was able to live his new life without a parental figure involved. He can’t believe how wrong he was, and he’s worried about what this monumental mistake is going to cost him.  
“Your face is saying ‘oh crap’, and that’s something we can agree on,” Phil says, looking down on the boy with disappointment that makes Tony squirm.  
He wants to slap himself. He’s not actually a child, there’s no reason for him to be bothered by making Phil upset, but there’s a stronger part of his mind that is telling him that he shouldn’t have done it.  
“We’ll figure this out, don’t worry,” Steve says to Tony.  
“I have an army of lawyers at my disposal, I don’t need your help,” Tony says, scathingly, though he wants to latch onto him and beg for forgiveness.  
Steve shakes his head, but ultimately doesn’t seem bothered by Tony’s attitude. He turns back to Coulson and walks him to the elevator, talking in low voices. Tony tries to follow them, to listen into what is definitely a conversation about him, but he’d forgotten about Clint’s unrelenting hold.  
“Eavesdropping is frowned upon, you know,” he says.  
“Ok, first of all, you’re a dirty hypocrite, and second, I can do what I want.”  
“I think it’s pretty clear that you’re wrong. You need a mummy or a daddy to give you permission before you do anything.”  
Bucky and Bruce both watch the conversation with strange looks on their faces, as though they really don’t agree with what’s being said, but can’t find the words needed to intervene. Tony wishes they’d do something, anything, because he’s feeling uncomfortable being held hostage on the couch and being laughed at by Clint.  
“I wonder what your new bedtime is going to be? Maybe we’ll have to send you to school! That’ll certainly get you out of the house for a few hours a day. You should probably join a sports team, because you’re a little… stringy, you know? Maybe I could teach you archery-”  
“GOD CLINT STOP!” Tony screams suddenly.  
Clint’s hold immediately loosens, and he looks as though he’s just been punched. Tony takes the opportunity to jump from the couch and back into the wall. He eyes everyone nervously, as they all look confused by his outburst, before he runs to the room he’s been using for the past few nights.  
He lays down on the bed, face in the pillow, and keeps the tears of frustration at bay by smacking the mattress with his fists. Normally he can give as good as he takes, but he’s overwhelmed by the prospect of his uncertain future and he’s not feeling particularly funny.  
He lays on the bed for hours before sleep finally catches up with him, and in his last conscious moments he feels an unfamiliar sensation spread across his body. It’s neither painful, nor unpleasant, so like most things, he ignores it.  
The next morning, he wishes that he hadn’t.


	2. Thank you, your honour. I accept these conditions.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something has changed, and Tony is younger than when he went to sleep.  
> This changes everything, but the custody hearing does not go as planned.

Tony dreams of the portal, and he’s filled with terror as he watches himself flying towards it. Tony screams, but at no point does he ask to turn around. He’s scared, but the lives of thousands of people are at stake, and he’s the only one who can do this. He hurtles through the gaping hole in the sky and suddenly everything is dark.  
“You shall not die today, Iron Man,” a voice in his ear whispers.  
And then Tony wakes up, screaming and flailing in his bed covers. He barely has the sense to notice that the door to the room has opened and Clint and Steve have run in. Tony doesn’t stop screaming, and his barely feels the tears flowing down his face in an endless stream. He can’t quite figure out why he’s in such a state, because the dream is slowly melting from his mind and the edges of the fear disintegrate.   
Steve stands to the side, clearly confused and unsure, but Clint wastes no time in getting to the distraught boy and pulling him towards him. Tony doesn’t fight the comfort, and his screams quieten into sobs of despair. He’s shaking and his breath hitches as he clings to the archer for safety.  
He doesn’t calm down for another ten minutes, but when he does, he realises what he’s doing and he pushes Clint away roughly, and wipes at his face with balled up fists. He taps his chest, where his arc reactor used to be, and the familiar rhythm helps him to regulate his breathing.  
“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, allowing himself to move forward.  
Tony is about to reply, about to tell them both that he just had a stupid dream, but the look on Steve’s face stops him short. Steve looks like he’s just seen a ghost, and Clint seems almost as confused, until he too gets a better look at Tony, and then he too looks shocked.  
“What?” Tony asks, on high alert. “Am I back to normal?”  
Tony looks down at himself and sees no sign of his old body. He runs a hand over his face, and there is still no facial hair, just the roundness of youth.  
“Tony, how do you feel?”  
There’s an edge to his voice that suggests that he’s not asking about the nightmare, but something else. Tony frowns, trying to figure out if he feels any different than he did the night before, but he can’t detect anything unusual. He pushes himself up from the bed and unsteadily walks into the ensuite to get a better look at himself. He freezes in front of the mirror and turns to Steve and Clint who are watching him with confused interest.  
“I… do I look younger to you?” Tony asks as his fingers trace along his face. It’s rounder than it was before, more youthful. “I look like I’m ten. What the hell?”  
Clint and Steve both nod warily and Tony can’t take his eyes off of his face. Three years and no change, but all of a sudden, he’s getting younger? That doesn’t make sense. What has changed? How is this even happening? Magic? It has to be.  
“Thor knows about magic, right? Can we get hold of him please?” Tony asks, desperately.  
“He’s gone back to Asgard. We don’t know when he’ll be back.”  
“Oh.”  
Tony is helped back to his bed by Clint and he sits down, his body vibrating and his stomach churning. He can’t make his mind slow down enough to decipher his thoughts, though he doubts that any of them are any use to him. There’s no way that even he could know a way to reverse this.   
“What’s going to happen?” He asks, his wide eyes searching Steve’s face for answers. “What if I can’t make it stop?”  
Steve doesn’t an answer, but Tony hadn’t expected one. He doesn’t know what he expects. Maybe some words of comfort. Something to help calm him down, or maybe words of comfort, or a promise to keep him safe. But Tony knows that he won’t offer them, because they’re all too aware of how Tony will reject it.  
“Right, well, we can’t sit around all day worrying, can we?” Tony says, forcing himself back to his feet. “I’ll just grab Bruce and we can go down to the labs and I’m sure between the two of us, we can figure this out.”  
“Uh, hold up, Tones. You have prior engagements today, remember?” Clint reminds him.  
“Crap, I do. Need to find myself a suitable set of parents. Could you and Natasha step up for it?” Tony asks, trying to hide the desperation from his voice. “I mean, you can play the part in front of the judge and when we get back here, we can just go back to normal.”  
Clint’s lips thin out and he shrugs, while looking to Steve. Tony feels his stomach drop, and although he has to remind himself that it doesn’t matter if Clint doesn’t want him, he still feels himself getting irrationally upset about it. He hopes that they can’t see that he’s on the verge of crying again, because that would be beyond embarrassing and can his emotions please get themselves in check?  
“We’ll talk to Coulson,” Clint promises. “We’ll see what we can do, OK?”  
Tony nods, not trusting himself to talk. They all leave the room and enter the lounge, where Bruce, Bucky, Phil and Coulson are. They all seem shocked to see Tony looking younger than he did when he went to bed, and he waves away their questions as he makes his way to the coffee machine. He pours himself a large cup, but Coulson rips it from his hands and frowns at him.  
“What happened?”  
“Give me the coffee back and I’ll tell you,” Tony bargains.  
“Not a chance. Your body won’t be able handle the caffeine. It certainly shouldn’t have before, but you look far too young now.”  
Tony huffs his annoyance, but doesn’t fight further. He sits down at the island and buries his face in his arms. Clint puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder and speaks on his behalf.  
“We think that something has triggered the reverse ageing process. We can’t determine the cause, obviously it’s not our wheelhouse, but Tony seems convinced that it’s the first time it has happened in the last three years.”  
“Hm,” Phil hums, rubbing his hand over his tired face. “This is going to complicate things.”  
“Oh, yes. We’d hate for it to get complicated,” Tony mutters, his voice muffled by his arms.  
“I just mean that once the judge hears that your reverse ageing is still in motion, he may be even less obliged to give us legal custody of you.”  
Tony’s head snaps up.  
“What? Why?”  
Phil shakes his head and frowns at the boy. He’s never seen Tony looking for vulnerable, and it’s such an uncomfortable thing that he has to look away. He wants to keep the kid safe, even though he knows that it’s just Tony. The same Tony Stark that has been on a self destructive mission since he was at college, the same that got drunk at his birthday party and fought with his best friend in a suit of armour, the same Tony Stark that was in the news day in day out for his unpredictable behaviours. It was such a contrast to the boy in front of him, and he didn’t know how to remind himself of this. So he didn’t.  
“We’re going to do everything in our power to keep you with us, Tony. I promise. It’s going to be difficult, but we’ll be with you every second of the way, do you understand?”  
Tony seems mollified by the promise, and Phil can only pray that he doesn’t break it, because Tony would never forgive him.

~~~

The judge sits behind his desk, looking at each members of the avengers and then his eyes finally land on the young Tony Stark. The man is clearly trying to decide what the best way forward is, but so far the case has been a disaster. People have given their personal statements about Tony as an adult, and even though each of the avengers have spoken on behalf of Tony, promising that he is of sound mind, the character references have been overwhelmingly out of their favour.  
“Order!” The judge calls. “I have come to a decision. Because Anthony Edward Stark is still mentally his older self, I deem him fit to be in the care of someone who has experience with children, but it comes with conditions. Clinton Francis Barton will be given full custody if he agrees to step back from his duties as an avenger, until Anthony is eighteen, be it by reversal of however he became to be like this or through the natural process of age.”  
Tony is stunned, and he feels himself paling. He turns to Clint, who looks equally as shocked. They both stare at each other for a minute.  
“You should decline the offer,” Tony tells him, sadly. “You’re an important member of the team. They can’t be two members down. Turn it down, and I’ll just go… I don’t know. Live in a home or something.”  
Clint cracks a strange smile and he ruffles Tony’s hair.  
“Thank you, your honour. I accept these conditions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a little more action later on in the story, maybe even in the next chapter, but I'm trying to be nice to my fictional character and I don't want him to deal with too much stress. Poor, not-real Tony.


	3. Im not worth more than what I can do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony’s emotional journey isn’t over yet

“Im not saying you call me Dad, Tony. Just Uncle will do!”  
“Stop being stupid, Clint. You’re taking too much pleasure in this. I’m not actually ten.”  
“With that attitude, you’re going to have a hard time convincing me.”  
Tony scowls at Clint, and while he intended for it to be threatening, the man merely laughed and drank deeply from his coffee cup. Tony watched enviously, but held back any protests. He knew Clint was trying to get a rise out of him, but he wasn’t going to fall for the trick. Besides, he could get a cup down in the labs and-  
“Where do you think you’re going?” Clint asks seriously, as Tony climbs down from the table.  
“I’m going to the lab. I can’t handle you right now.”  
“Uh, no you’re not.”  
Tony and Clint state at each other for a long time, waiting for the other to back down and relent, but neither do.  
“Tony, you can’t go down there. It’s a cave of danger. You’ll hurt yourself.”  
“I don’t think you get to make that decision, kid.”  
“What?”  
Clint folds his arms over his chest and even has the nerve to give Tony a sympathetic smile. Tony purses his lips and balls his hands into fists at the side of his body.  
“This— You can’t- I’m a grown man, dammit!” Tony screams, stamping a foot on the ground.  
Clint’s eyes gleam with poorly concealed humour, and it only makes Tony angrier.  
“This is fair! I need to go to my lab! I can’t stay cooped up here all day! You have to let me go down there!” Tony kicks a chair, and it skips across the room. “What am I supposed to do if I’m here all day?!”  
“We could watch a movie?” Clint suggests, remaining incredibly calm throughout the whole show.  
“There’s nothing useful about watching a movie, Clint,” Tony sneers. “I’m not here to laze around all day. If you won’t let me in the suit, at least let me do the only other thing I’m good for!”   
The words stream out of Tony’s mouth before he can reign them in, and Clint’s smug calmness falls into a genuine concern. He steps around the island table separating them, wanting to offer Tony more than words of comfort, but Tony takes a shaky step back.  
“I didn’t mean it like that... I just- I mean- Of course I’m useful for more than that,” He says with his signature smile and an edge of smugness. “It was a slip of the tongue.”  
Clint isn’t convinced, because aside from Tony’s expression looking all kinds of wrong, he’s also not as good at hiding his emotions. He’s failing miserably at not appearing miserable. Clint figures that he won’t accept a hug, so he goes for a well meaning ruffle of the hair. Tony doesn’t seem to appreciate this gesture much either because he ducks away from it and runs away. Clint doesn’t bother going after him when he hears the familiar sound of a door being slammed.  
“JARVIS? Can you keep an eye on him?”   
“Of course, sir.”

~~~

Tony digs his finger nails into the palm of his hand angrily. He manages to draw blood before JARVIS decides to intervene.  
“Sir, your heart rates indicate a level of stress that does not work well with your body. Might I suggest that you calm down?”  
“No you may not,” Tony bites back.   
If his AI could sigh, he would. Tony scowls at the ceiling, but throws himself onto his bed and buries his face into his pillow. He can’t cry, but his frustrations seem to demand some kind of emotional reaction.   
Stark men don’t cry, but they do hit things. Tony punches his pillow, but it doesn’t offer him the kind of relief that he’s been hoping for. He tries again, because one piece of evidence does not constitute a working understanding. He tries a few times before his fist makes contact with the wall. He sucks in a shout of pain, and does it again and again, until his knuckles are bloody and his hands throb with pain. He lets out a cry of pain, and Clint is in the room, hauling him back and cradling him.  
“Get off!” Tony screams, trying to push the man away.  
“Tony, your hand is bleeding!” Clint exclaims. “JARVIS, can you call Bruce?”  
“Certainly, sir,” the AI replies.  
Tony doesn’t stop fighting Clint’s hold, but it does grow weaker and weaker the longer it goes on.  
Bruce appears in the doorway, his face flushed and his eyes wide.  
“What’s wrong?” He asks, out of breath, eyes darting around the room in panic. They land on Tony’s bloody hand. “Oh, tony...”  
Bruce grabs a first aid kit from the bathroom an kneels beside the distraught boy and begins to clean it up. He wraps his hand in bandages and sits back on his feet, watching as Tony slowly calms down.  
“What’s wrong?” Bruce asks delicately.   
“Nothing,” Tony lies, turning his face away. “I’m fine.”  
“Ah, yes, obviously.” Clint drawls.  
“Shut up,” Tony spits at the man. “Leave me alone.”  
“Uh, no. Last time I did that, you punched a wall.”  
Tony glares, but his mouth snaps shut. Clint and Bruce share a look, neither willing to leave, both wishing they could soothe their friends anger.  
“Let’s go watch a movie, or something, yeah?”  
Tony doesn’t move, so Clint lifts him from the bed and begins to carry him to the common area. Tony squats and his arms fly around the mans neck, holding on for dear life.  
“I can walk!” he cries indignantly.  
“I agree,” Clint says, making no move to put Tony back on his feet.  
Tony huffs in annoyance, but doesn’t argue further. He’s set down on the sofa and he curls into himself, away from the two men who sit either side of him.  
Without Prompt, JARVIS starts to play Star Wars, and Tony gives a little hum of appreciation. He might not agree with the science behind the movie, but he enjoys the theatrics so he tends to set his sensibilities aside for the sake of it.  
He’s asleep before the movie is out, his outburst leaving his exhausted. Bruce and Clint have a silent conversation over his head, but it halts the moment Tony starts to shift uncomfortably in his sleep.  
“Nightmare?” Clint asks, panicking.  
“I don’t-“  
Tony starts to glow and his body begins to visible shrink before their very eyes.  
“This isn’t good,” Bruce whispers as Tony’s face softens when he relaxes back into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Got caught up in my other projects.


	4. Only A Bystander

Tony wakes up to the feeling of being carried in a pair of strong arms. He stirs, blinks up at Clint who looks panicked, but he falls back asleep before he can ask why.

~~~

  
When Tony wakes up again, he’s on a bed in Bruce’s lab. Bruce is staring intently at the computer screen, anxiety creased between lines on his forehead. He drifts back into sleep.

~~~

“Tony, come on kid; wake up.”  
Tony blinks rapidly, looking up at Steve’s concerned face. He rubs the sleep from his eyes with his fists and tries to sit up, but Steve’s hand on his shoulder pushes him back down.  
“What-“ Tony freezes at the sound of his voice.  
Steve’s hand grips his shoulder in a reassuring way, but Tony squirms out of his touch and forces himself up.   
“Again?”  
Steve nods, looking cautiously over at Bruce who is watching them both with concern scarred on his face. Tony looks down at himself and he feels the stress darkening his eyes.  
“How... How is this possible?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper.  
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. I’m running some blood samples now, but so far we’ve not found anything.”  
Tony bites his lip and stares at Bruce, praying that he’ll elaborate on leads or something that can explain why he looks like he’s seven years old.  
“I can’t keep... if I get younger and younger... there’s going to be a point in which I don’t exist anymore!” Tony panics. “I can’t just die! I can’t just get younger until I’m erased from existence! You need to do something, Bruce. Steve, you’re Captain America! You can fix anything! Fix this!”  
“I don’t know how,” Steve admits, looking heartbroken. “I don’t think I can make this better.”

  
~~~

Tony is sitting on the sofa next to clint, eating mac and cheese and pointedly ignoring Steve, who is stood in the center.  
“Clint, you’re not really playing his games, are you?” Steve asks, exasperated,  
“If the kid says you don’t exist Steve, then I’m inclined to agree.” Clint smiles at him, like he’s having the most fun in the world.  
Tony nods and gives a grunt of approval before taking another bite. Steve’s crestfallen expression doesn’t bring out any sympathy in either of the sofas occupants, so Steve stalks into the kitchen and makes himself a coffee.   
He both can and can’t understand why Tony is behaving this way. He understands that Tony is angry and confused and had looked to Steve in a moment of weakness only to be offered no answers in return, but he is also reasonable enough to know that Steve can’t possibly know why this is happening.   
Steve looks back into the lounge and spots of the small tuft of dark brown hair and begins to wonder. What if his physical age is having an inadvertent affect on it his mental age? Tony won’t appreciate that question being brought up, but it’s easy enough to test out.  
“Hey, Tony? Mind if I ask you a question?” Steve ventures.  
Predictably, Tony ignores him, so he decides to ask anyway. “Do you want to come to the toy store?”  
Tony’s head snaps up and his eyes glow with excitement, before he seems to remember himself and sinks back into the sofa with a confused expression.  
Clint raises an eyebrow and studies Tony’s face and then blinks up at Steve, understanding dawning on him.   
“We can, you know. We can buy lego and, uh, I don’t know. Other stuff too.”   
Tony scowls, not looking at either of them, and this simply sharpens Steve’s prediction. Tony’s mind is regressing with his body, and this can only spell trouble. They need to find out what happened, and they need to do it quickly.

~~~

It took a long time coaxing him into it, but eventually Clint got Tony to go to the toy store with him, and he let himself unwind a little, even jumping a little when Clint picked up several sets of lego for him to play with. Steve bought him a few books and a chemistry set, though Tony grumbles that he could do more exciting things with the contents of their fridge than with the feeble ingredients in the set.   
Steve shrugs and buys it anyway, and they make their way back home.   
Tony struggles to contain his excitement during the drive home, talking a mile a minute about all the different things he can build, bouncing slightly in his seat. Steve watches him with worry and curiosity. Tony never seemed to unwind from his self-assured, constantly moving personality that Steve was greeted with when they first met. Even though this is never how he imagined getting to know that man, it’s strange that it’s how he’s seeing Tony unwind for the first time.   
He knows he should be worried. They have no idea what is causing the de-aging, and how long it will last for. There are literally no answers to any of his questions, but for Steve everything just seems to happen. Since coming back from the ice, it’s been easier for him to separate himself from real life, since it’s not his life. Having Bucky back at his side has been a massive relief, but it doesn’t take the edge off of the reality that isn’t his anymore. Maybe it will work out. He can only hope that is does. Tony deserves better, but sadly Steve can’t be any more than a bystander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long it’s been. I’ve been so busy with other stuff!!


	5. Don’t talk to me or my son ever again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think in the FF world this is called a fluff chapter? It’s been a while since I touched this, so I’m just trying to re-gage an understanding of the characters so I can get back into the flow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay.

“Hey, Tony, you up?”  
Clint sticks his head around the bedroom door the next morning, silently praying that he hasn’t aged down again. He’s relieved to see that he still looks seven, but not relieved enough that it pulls away from his panic of seeing his team mate in such a small body.  
Tony twists on the bed and pouts as his eyes break open. He squints at Clint and kicks his legs out in obvious annoyance. Clint doesn’t know if Tony realizes how cute he’s being.  
“Cute, Tony. Come on, we’ve got plans today and you’re a growing boy. You need breakfast.”  
Tony scowls and snuggles further into his duvet. He sighs in contentment and a small, satisfied smile sets on his face as he closes his eyes again.  
Clint grins manically.  
“You can’t win this game by being adorable, Tony,” he says as walks towards the bed.  
Tony barely has enough time to open his eyes again before Clint has his ankle in a vice grip.  
“Hey, what-“  
Clint doesn’t give him time to complain, and his dances his fingers along the sole of the boys sole. Tony struggles but he can’t help laughing. Clint lifts his whole body from the bed, and Tony hangs upside down, looking delighted and still laughing maniacally.  
“Clint-ahahah- Stop!”  
Clint ignores him and carries him by his ankle into the kitchen. Steve looks horrorfied by the manhandling, but Bucky smiles and Bruce shakes his head.  
“You awake now, kid?” Clint asks, looking down at Tony’s flushed state.  
Tony doubles over and latches onto Clint’s hand. Clint let’s go of his ankle and Tony lands on the floor on his feet still smiling. He pulls himself into a chair and tries to look grumpy again but fails miserably.   
“What do you want? Eggs? Toast? Cereal?”  
Tony shrugs and looks longingly towards the coffee pot. Clint laughs heartily at him and pours him a bowl of sugary cereal that makes Steve cringe.  
“Y’know, if I were still his father I’d be trying to put something healthy into him,” Steve mutters.  
“I resent that, Steve. I’m perfectly capable of filling him with sugary goodness and suffering the repercussions later. Now, don’t speak to me or my son ever again.”  
Steve looks affronted and Tony coughs out his laughter behind his hand.  
“It’s a meme, Steve. Don’t take it personally,” Tony assures him.  
Steve looks confused, but seems to understand it was a joke on Clint’s part. Natasha looks bemused by the entire interaction, but she’s studying Clint with interest. Bucky, on the other hand, is watching Tony eat his cereal. Tony nervously smiles at him, but Bucky doesn’t stop staring. Tony drops his eyes to his bowl and continues to eat, swinging his legs unashamedly on his stool.   
Clint pours himself a bowl of cereal and moves to sit next to Tony, ignoring Steve’s look of disgust.  
“Morning,” Bruce calls as he walks out of the elevator. “Oh, uh, you’re all looking real domestic today.”  
“Clint pulled me out of bed by my ankle,” Tony tells him.  
“Oh?” Bruce looks to Clint, obviously expecting the man to deny it.  
“Technically I carried you out of bed by your ankle,” Clint corrects. “Dragging would have been far too violent.”  
“Are we sure Clint was the best choice for this? Tony is enough of a trouble maker without Clint there to accompany him.”  
“Oh, Banner, you hit me right in the feels. I’ll have you know I’m a perfectly responsible adult. I’ve made day plans to help him expel some of his excess energy and we’re going to see a doctor at SHIELD to make sure he’s healthy.”  
Tony’s mouth drops open at this and he looks at Clint with such utter betrayal that Clint looks broken hearted.  
“But I don’t want to see a doctor,” Tony whispers.  
“I’m sorry Tones, but it’s for the best. We need to make sure you’re all on one piece.”  
“But,” Tony’s voice starts to wobble, but it’s clear that he’s trying to harden his features. “I won’t go.”  
Clint sighs dramatically, and looks conflicted. On the one hand, he clearly wants to be able to keep Tony happy, but on the other hand, he knows that Tony needs to go to the doctors.   
“We’ll talk about it,” Clint promises.  
Tony looks dubious, and he pushes his half eaten bowl of cereal away and crosses his arms petulantly.  
“Tony, you need to eat all of it. It’s not good for you to run on barely any food. You know that.”  
“Objectively, yes, but I’m sure there were more than enough calories in half a bowl to sustain me for the time being.”  
“Half a bowl had barely 100 calories in it, Tony,” Natasha tells him, as she looks at the box. “It’s totally not proportionate with the sugar content, but you should still eat more.”  
“No,” Tony grumbles, not bothering to look up at any of them or offer a reasonable counter argument.  
“Tony-“  
“Leave me alone.”  
Tony slides off the stool and stalks to his room, frowning (read: pouting) and climbs onto his bed. It’s higher than his body is used to, so climbing is an apt description of what he needed to do.  
He lays face down on the pillow for a while before the bed sinks next to him, alerting him to someone’s presence.  
“Tony, I know this is difficult for you, but you need to trust everyone else’s judgement.”  
Tony had expected Clint, or even Bruce, but it’s Steve who has chosen to come.  
“Go away.”  
“Not until you talk to me about why you’re not willing to eat a real meal.”  
“I’m not hungry.”  
“That’s not normal. Maybe if you ate more, you wouldn’t be so skinny.”  
To prove his point, Steve pokes Tony in his sides and when Tony cries out in shock, Steve does it again until Tony is laughing so hard that tears appear in his eyes. Tony tries to bat away his hands, but he’s no match for Steve’s onslaught of tickling.  
“St-stop!” Tony cries out between laughter. “St-st-Steve stop!”  
“My name suddenly became two syllables longer. I wonder if I can round it up to five!”  
Clint appears in the doorway and watches with a mixture of jealousy and fondness as Steve makes Tony smile.  
“Fine!” Tony manages to stutter out. “I’ll eat!”  
“Ah, so tickle torture works. I wonder if I can make you clean my room too?” Steve jokes, but he stops tickling.   
Tony pushes his hands away, breathless and smiling. His face is red and his eyes are wet, but he’s happy again.  
Clint realizes that this is another effect of the de-aging. Tony is genuinely easier to cheer up at this age.  
“I’ll make you some toast. Your cereal will be soggy,” Clint announces.  
Tony nods and rolls off the bed and starts to follow Clint out. Steve, however, intercepts him and lifts him up, tucking him under his arm like he’s a rolled up rug. Tony starts giggling again but he fights for release unsuccessfully.  
When they return to the kitchen, everyone is watching, smiling at them. Clint has never had a moment of complete domesticity, but this feels so familial that his heart swells. He’s like the grinch on Christmas day.   
“Ok, mon perè. Toast me up!”  
Clint blinks stupidly at Tony’s casual use of the term, but hides his shock by turning away from the group and making food. He pours Tony another glass of orange juice, and notices the way Bucky is watching Tony with something like reverence, but might also be curiosity. Or longing. Not in a creepy way, but in a way that suggests to Clint that the man wants to be more involved with their strange little family unit.  
“Hey, Barnes, you want to come visit the real world with me and Tony? I’ll probably need help keeping him in line.”  
Bucky looks surprised, but a little  
hopeful. He nods slowly, and then looks to Tony to see if he’s ok with it. Tony, however, is distracted with talking to Bruce about the lego structures he intends to build. Bruce listens intently with a humoring smile on his face.   
“Yes, thank you,” Bucky whispers.


	6. Who’s this little guy, then?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day was going fine until it wasn’t.

After Tony finished eating, everyone got dressed and ready for the day. It was barely pushing 9am, but Clint was already wide awake with nerves. He wasn’t sure how well his day was going to be received, and he was as relieved to have Bucky at his side as Bucky was to be there.   
Tony came bouncing into the lounge in a too big t-shirt and red shorts that had to be tightened at the waist to keep them up.   
First thing on Clint’s itinerary was to go to a clothes store and pick him some clothes out.  
“Ready?” Clint asks, hitching his backpack onto his shoulder.  
“Yep!”  
Smiling, Clint leads them down to the garage where Happy is waiting with a car. He knows Tony isn’t going to be overjoyed with what he finds in the backseat, but the laws are pretty strict and he doesn’t want to risk losing custody and having Tony put into care for something so stupid.  
“Is that a booster seat?” Tony squeaks, gawking.  
Clint doesn’t say anything, instead he effortlessly lifts Tony into the seat and straps him in while he’s too stunned to start struggling.   
“Hey, no! That’s not fair! I’m not a baby!” Tony complains, as he tries to unbuckle himself.   
Clint keeps his hand firmly over the seatbelt while Tony tried and fails to pry his hands away.  
“If you were a few inches shorter, I guarantee it would be worse, but the law is the law, kiddo.”  
Tony looks furious, and in the rear view mirror Clint can see Happy biting back a smile.  
“This is so stupid!” Tony cries out, folding his arms over his chest.   
“Yeah, well, so’s your face, so you have something in common.”  
Tony glares at him but doesn’t say anything as they drive out of the building and into the streets.  
Happy drives quickly and expertly, but within the confines of the speed limit. He obviously knows the area well, because he takes side streets that Clint didn’t even know existed, and it takes fifteen minutes to get to the department store.  
They climb out of the car, and Clint keeps a firm hand on Tony’s shoulder, fearful that he’ll get lost.  
If Tony was unimpressed with the booster seat, it’s nothing to how he reacted when he saw the clothes available in his size.  
“I’m am NOT wearing dungarees!” he shouts, earning them a few curious looks. “They’re stupid.”  
Clint ignores the comment and puts some in the basket anyway. They buy a few pairs of jeans and some plain shirts, but he allows Tony to pick out his own underwear to save him further mortification.  
They quickly buy they clothes and Clint hands him some jeans and t-shirt and ushers him into a bathroom so he can put the clothes on.  
“I look like a child,” Tony complains.  
Bucky raises an eyebrow at the comment but doesn’t say anything. Clearly he’s thinking the same as Clint, and that’s that the clothes aren’t the thing making him look childish.  
“Oh, cool!” Tony shouts, running towards an electronics store window with train set.  
Clint grabs him buy the arm in a mild panic.  
“Don’t run off!” he admonishes. “Or I’ll buy those child reigns.”  
“You wouldn’t dare,” Tony challenges, but backs off when he realizes that Clint is serious. “Ok, fine. No rushing off. Where next?”  
Clint doesn’t reply, because he’s worried about how Tony will react, but he leads him back to the car and buckles himself and Tony back in. Happy doesn’t need an address because Clint sent the itinerary this morning. They simply start to move the moment they’re all in and ready.  
Tony curiously leans forward to look out of the window, and Clint prays that Tony doesn’t get angry when they arrive.  
“...is this a playground?”  
Clint stays silent, trying figure out how Tony feels.  
Clint helps Tony out of the car and grabs a basketball from the bag. Tony eyes it suspiciously, like it might be an IED, but follows Clint to the court by the swings and waits for something to happen. Happy and Bucky both follow suit, and Clint is appreciative of the back up.  
Clint dribbles the ball to the three point line and Bucky is instantly game, running up to him to try and intercept. He uses his mechanical arm to gently push Clint and gets possession of the ball and starts racing up the other side of the court. Happy runs with him and Bucky takes it in his stride, passing the ball over and Happy takes the shot.  
“2-0, losers,” Happy calls out, pumping a fist into the air.  
The shouting pulls Tony out of his stunned silence and he immediately runs over the Happy to try and get the ball.  
His size and speed makes it difficult, so Clint rushes forward to assist, overtly pleased that Tony was so easy to pull into the game. He steals the ball and dribbles down the court. Tony cries out for him to pass, which Clint does, but he accidentally throws a little too hard, and even though Tony catches it, it pushes him back and he falls.  
Clint, Bucky and Happy rush forward, but they aren’t fast enough to stop Tony from smacking his head into the concrete. He lays there, eyes wide and bottom lip wobbling dangerously.  
“Are you OK?” Clint asks, apprehensively.  
Tony nods, pushing himself up. Clint rushes forward and helps Tony to his feet, noting his grazed elbows. He carefully feels the back of Tony’s head and is horrified to find a bump already forming.  
“Oh god, Bruce is going to murder me.”  
Tony starts crying then, which makes Clint panic even more. Bucky and Happy hang back awkwardly, while Clint tries to calm Tony down. He pulls him in for a hug, but it doesn’t help and much as he’d hoped it would. Fortunately though, Tony doesn’t seem overly ashamed of his reaction and clings tightly to Clint’s shirt as he stands up, carrying Tony like he was nothing more than a toddler. He puts him on hip and rubs a gentle hand up and down his back.  
“I’m so sorry, Tones. I didn’t mean to throw so hard.”  
“S’my fault,” Tony sniffles. “I shouldn’t be crying.”  
Clint sighs, screwing up his eyes. He’s monumentally fucked up today. He can’t believe he made Tony cry, of all things. He understands that Tony clearly has some rather childish emotions, and normally he’d brush himself off and laugh, but he’s got much less control than normal now and it’s breaking Clint’s damn heart.  
“I think we may need to take a brief interlude from our day,” Clint announces, bouncing Tony carefully as he leads them all back to the car. “Maybe now would be a good time to visit that doctor.”  
“No doctors!” Tony cries, making Clint wince from the noise.   
“We have to. You need to get those cuts looked at, and that bump looks nasty.”  
“No! No, no, no!” Tony shouts, louder now.  
He starts kicking his legs, and struggling to get down, but instead of setting him on his feet, since Clint knows Tony will try to run, he passes him over to Bucky, who holds Tony against his hip with his metal arm.  
Tony screams louder this time, and Clint adjusts the sensitivity on his hearing aids.  
“Come on, Tony, be reasonable,” Bucky says, sounding very unimpressed. “You know that you should see a doctor. We won’t let them hurt you, we promise.”  
Tony starts crying harder and hides his face in Bucky’s shoulder while he sobs.  
Clint feels bad for Bucky’s shirt, knowing it’s going to have snot all over it, but he feels worse for making Tony react like this. When they get back to the car, Bucky straps Tony in and Happy climbs into the front and they drive toward SHEILD headquarters. Tony hasn’t stopped crying the entire time, but it’s gone from loud screaming to broken sobs, and Clint desperately looks around for something to help. As a last resort, he pulls out a large Pikachu toy from the bag of goodies he’d packed pre-trip and hands it to Tony. Against all expectations, Tony latches onto it, arms wrapped around it, hugging it to his chest and crying into its head.  
When Happy pulls up, he looks back at them and puts his hand on Tony’s knee, trying to be reassuring. Tony squirms, still holding tightly to the toy.  
Clint and Bucky climb out, and Clint leans back in the pick Tony up and resettle him on his hip.  
He bounces Tony again as they head into the building and up to the medical floor. Tony keeps crying, and Clint realizes that he’ll probably be exhausted later, and will need a nap. The idea makes him nervous, because he knows Tony will throw a fit if he knows what they’re doing, but relieved because Tony won’t be so miserable after he’s slept. Hopefully.  
They arrive at the Doctors door and Tony tenses in Clint’s arms, face still  
hidden in the Pikachu plush.  
“Who’s this little guy then?” The doctor asks, as he opens the door.


	7. Mental aged warring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctors visit

Clint can see a blush appearing on the part of Tony’s face that isn’t squished into the doll, and he feels embarrassed on his behalf. He’s not sure whether he should let the doctor in on it, but Fury takes that decision out of his hands.  
“Is that Tony?”  
Tony pulls his face out of the toy, and his eyes are red and puffy and his nose is dribbling something horrendous. With a disturbing amount of care, Fury fishes out a tissue and wipes Tony’s nose. Tony looks confused, but mostly tired and embarrassed.  
“How’re you feeling, kid? You look like you’ve have a rough day.”  
Clearly too exhausted to complain about how Fury is talking to him, Tony just nods pathetically and buries his face back into the doll.  
Fury nods towards the doctors office and Bucky, Fury and Clint enter. Clint stands by the bed, waiting for instruction.   
“Ok, what do I need to know?” the doctor asks.  
“Tony needs a general check up, and he fell today and grazed his elbows and bumped his head,” Clint explains, not sure how much detail he needs to go into.  
“How old is he?”  
Clint shares a look with Fury, and then glances down at Tony, who seems to be falling asleep onto the toy.  
“Seven.”  
“I can tell you he’s definitely underweight and underdeveloped for a seven year old,” the doctor says disapprovingly.  
“I’m forty-five,” Tony yawns.  
“Oh, well in that case, you’re the right size,” the doctor jokes, but when he sees the serious faces of those around him, comprehension dawns. “You’re Tony Stark.”  
It’s not a question. He’s just suddenly realized who he’s dealing with and maybe he hopes saying it out loud will help him get his head around it.  
“Right. Well then. In that case,” the doctor is floundering, and Tony smirks a little into the toy, which eases some of the guilt that has been weighing Clint down.  
“We’ll weigh him first and then take measurements. After that we’ll want to take a blood sample and do a quick check up of his other vitals. Nothing too invasive, we just want to make sure he’s as healthy as a middle aged seven year old can be.”  
Clint doesn’t know if that run through was for his benefit or Tony’s, but he thinks it may have helped put them both at ease. Tony is reemerging for his toy and Clint sets him on the floor.  
“Oh my, shall we clean up those cuts first?”  
Tony looks at his elbows and winces when he sees blood and skin scraped white. Clint panics, thinking he may start crying again, and the doctor seems to notice.  
“Hey hey, no tears. If you start crying, I start crying and then Fury will start crying, and it’ll get all Alice in Wonderland up in here.”  
Tony giggles, actually giggles, and Fury looks at Clint with concern.  
“Now, brave face time. I’m gonna clean them with some antiseptic and it might sting just a little bit.”  
Tony nods and he actually puts a brave face on. All head high and chin out. The doctor gently dabs at the cut and Tony bites his bottom lip. Once he’s cleaned, the doctor pulls out some avengers band aids and puts one on each elbow. Tony is delighted by this, and he shows it by pointing at them and looking at Clint.  
“They’re pretty cool, but it’d be way cooler if it was me on that bandaid.”  
Tony grins wide and turns back to the doctor.  
“Now, can you take your shoes off so I can weigh you?”  
Tony nods fervently and toes off his velcro sneakers. He follows the doctors instructions and steps on the scale. He then allows himself to be measured and allows Clint to lift him onto the bed in the corner, where he’s subjected to a blood pressure test, a stethoscope and a ear exam. It’s not until the needles are pulled out that things get tense.  
Tony backs up on the bed until he hits the wall. He hides his head in his knees and is saying ‘no, no, no’ under his breath.  
Clint wastes no time, moving to sit on the bed next to Tony, who immediately scrambles into his lap.  
Surprised, but ever the competent spy, Clint doesn’t falter. He just puts his arms around Tony and hugs him tight as he shakes.  
“Hey, Tones?”  
Tony shifts and looks up at Clint through long, wet lashes.   
“Can you be super brave right now for the doctor? He’ll be quick, and I bet it won’t even hurt.”  
“I’ll give you candy,” the doctor bargains. “And I’ll let you try my stethoscope.”  
Tony is immediately torn between fear and want, and Clint hugs him tightly just to remind him that he’s there.  
After a few seconds and very careful consideration, Tony nods, but quickly buried his face in Clint’s chest and throws out his arm. The doctor is endlessly careful, and Clint thinks that Tony may not even have noticed that the doctor had pricked him.  
“All done.”  
Tony shoots up, almost knocking his head on Clint’s chin, and he looks at the arm where Clint is holding a cotton ball to the doctor and back again.  
“Already?”  
“Yep. Did you feel it?”  
“If I say no will I still get the candy? And to play with your stethoscope?”  
Fury looks positively alarmed now, but the doctor takes it in his stride.  
“Absolutely. I haven’t made I promise I haven’t kept, have I?”  
Tony shakes his head, and the doctor smiles kindly and hands over a lollipop and takes off his stethoscope. Tony immediately puts the sucker in his mouth and the stethoscope buds in his ears. He turns to Clint and places the cold metal to his chest with none of the gentleness the doctor had shown. While he is distracted listening to Clint’s heart, the doctor carefully prods at Tony’s head near the bump and brushes the hair to the side to get a better look.  
Tony didn’t even notice.  
“He’ll be fine. It’s nothing to worry about. It’ll go down soon,” the doctors smile transforms into something a little more concerned. “Are you at all concerned with his mental ages warring?”  
“We’re kind of just going with the flow at this point, doc. It’s kind of an unprecedented situation.”  
“Unprecedented is my middle name,” Tony quips, looking up at Clint with the stethoscope still fixed in his ears and the disk still on Clint’s chest. “I don’t do anything by the books. Keeps everyone on their feet.”  
Clint wants to laugh, but there was something very self deprecating about the way he said it that he’s not sure it can be truly funny.  
“Unprecedented and a hero, Tones,” Clint tells him softly.  
Tony shrugs and turns back to his medical examination, moving from Clint’s chest to his forehead. “Is there anything we should be doing?”  
“Feed him. He’s not a healthy weight for a boy his size and he’s not a healthy size for a boy his age. If he has to grow back up naturally, you have undercut some of his older selfs health problems by treating them now.”  
Tony chooses that moment to tap Clint’s forehead rather harshly.  
“Hey, what is was that?” Clint complains, taking Tony’s hand in his own.  
“I was checking for an echo.”  
Bucky snorts harshly and Tony doubles over into laughter at his own joke, one tiny hand in Clint’s and the other holding on to one of Pikachu’s ears. His giggles are so adorable and his looks so small and vulnerable that Clint can’t help it. He starts to love Tony like a son rather than like a teammate.


	8. Loki did this?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fucking Loki, the beautiful bastard

With the candy still in his mouth, Tony passes out on the car seat as they drive towards the tower. Clint carefully takes the lollipop from him and puts it in a trash bag. He then wipes the line of drool from his mouth and puts a blanket over his legs. Tony smacks his lip and his hand twitches towards his mouth. Clint watches curiously. He’s not sure what age most kids stop sucking their thumbs, since his oldest never sucked hers and his second youngest is younger than Tony and has yet to stop.  
Out of the corner of his eye, Clint can see Bucky watching too. He’s not sure if it’s weird or not, but he opts for the latter when Tony puts his thumb in his mouth and hums softly. Clint almost cries at how cute it is, and those near permanent edges of sharpness of Bucky’s face softens. Clint is stunned, but he doesn’t say anything. He just leans back in his seat watching Tony in the corner of his eye. Tony squirms a little in his seat, but the thumb never leaves his mouth and he doesn’t wake up. Not even when he is lifted from the car and carried all the way to his room several floors up. The other avengers melt when they see Tony with an arm around his teddy and a thumb in his mouth curled up in Clint’s arms.  
Natasha is the only one who doesn’t show it so obviously on her face. Her eyes do, however, spot the band aids on his elbows and she sends him a questioning look to which he replies with his own look, saying he’ll tell her later. She nods and Clint carries Tony into his room and gently lays him on the bed. Tony curls up around the doll and hums again. Clint has to tear himself away to go back into the lounge where the team and watching him expectantly.  
“Tell us everything,” Steve says, unashamedly.  
Clint grins and he and Bucky begin explaining how the day went.

~~~

Tony wakes with a jolt. Normally only nightmares can do that, but this time it’s something else. There’s a loud clap of thunder and Tony rolls over and off the bed and scurries into the lounge. He spots Clint right away on the sofa. Tony runs to him and climbs onto the sofa next to him.  
“You ok?”  
“Yeah,” Tony says, a tad defensively. “I just... I heard thunder.”  
“Not to worry Sir, that is Thor returning.”  
They all turn to face the elevator as the doors slide open, revealing the large god who’s winning smile is suspiciously missing.  
“Shield brethren. I come baring ill news.”  
Tony sits up, more nervous than before. Thor not smiling is one thing. Him calling anything bad news is another. Steve told him the other day that when they discontinued his favorite flavor pop tart, Thor shrugged and said the fate of the world is within reason. Steve was baffled, because his love of pop tarts did not fit with his reaction to it being taken away.   
Which means this is bad, bad world ending news.  
“Not another invasion?” Tony asks, his voice shaking.  
Thor looks to the sound of the voice and does a rather comical double take when he sees Tony.  
“Anthony, it appears my brothers trickery has worsened.”  
“This is Loki?” Tony asks, standing up on the sofa and pointing to himself. “Explain.”  
Thor’s face falls and Tony almost feels bad for snapping, but who can blame him? He’s losing his mind to his body and it’s Loki’s fault.  
“He cast a spell on you after he, and I quote ‘forced him from my presence through the window of his own castle’.”  
The others look to Tony for some kind of add in.  
“He threw me out of the window just before I flew the... into the... before I disappeared.”  
“He told me that he knew you were going to do the sacrifice play, and that when you did, he would offer a second chance.”  
Tony bites his tongue, holding back any remarks about Loki that might upset Thor, and instead he points a finger towards him.  
“Find him. Make him turn me back.”  
The effect of the demand is somewhat lost by the stuffed toy hanging from his grip. Tony didn’t even notice it was there, and he throws it across the room. The ferocity of his throw pulled him off balance and had it not been for Clint’s reflexes, he would have definitely ended up on the floor. Instead, he is sat on Clint’s lap, facing outward.  
“I have tried, Anthony. He informed me that to interfere with the course of the spell would have tremendous repercussions.”  
“Worse than aging backwards out of existence?”  
Thor nods solemnly, and Tony throws himself backwards dramatically into Clint’s chest, cause the man to ‘oof’. Tony isn’t feeling particularly apologetic, so simply stares daggers at Thor.  
“He seems to think it will benefit you greatly, though I know not of what he is referring.”  
“Well, great. I’m going to spend the rest of my life more useless than before because your ‘brother’ decided to ‘gift’ me with a curse.”  
No one speaks. The room false into a tense silence and Thor sits heavily into a chair, effectively joining them in a team wide sulk-fest.  
JARVIS seems to be unhappy with how they’re all behaving, and turns the TV on, playing ‘a land before time’, which Tony hadn’t even thought about for years, let alone considered watching.   
One by one, everyone’s attention turns to the TV and away from the grim mood that Tony is forefronting.

 

~~~

The movie finishes and Clint claps his hands together, making Tony jump. He’d almost forgotten that he was on his chest, and he hastily pushes away.  
“Right. We need lunch and I’ve still got an afternoon of activities to do.”  
Tony doesn’t feel like eating or doing anything that Clint might consider to be ‘fun’, but he needs his mind taken off of his current predicament, so he doesn’t voice his thoughts.  
“PB&J?” Clint offers, and Steve groans.  
“How about a chicken salad?”  
“Ok, Mr. Five-A-Day, how about we stop being boring and have some fun, kay?” Clint snaps back, as he heads into the kitchen.  
Tony follows him, since he has nothing better to do, and just as he’s trying to climb onto the stool, a rough hand grabs the back of his shirt and lifts him onto it.  
“There are better ways to handle my child, Bucky. Using both hands and not the back of his clothes would be my first tip.”  
Bucky looks apologetic, but doesn’t say anything. He just moves to sit next to Tony.  
“So, food and then I’ll let Happy know we’re ready to go again, yeah?”  
“What exactly do you have planned for the day? You’re not going to take me back to the doctors are you?”  
Clint laughs a little, and shakes his head.  
“It’s a surprise, but I think you’ll love it!”  
Tony highly doubts this, but when each of the avengers announces that they’d like to come to, Tony can’t deny them the chance to let off a little steam. So, a little begrudgingly, he decides to not complain, no matter how stupid Clint’s plans turn out to be.


	9. How do... what... what?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony runs away and right into Spider-man.

Tony is back in the car with Clint and Bucky on either side of him and Steve in the front next to Happy. Natasha, Thor and Bruce are all in another car, which Natasha is driving and they’re all heading to a mysterious location chosen by Clint.  
“Are we nearly there?” Tony asks, leaning forward to look out of the passenger window.  
“Not far now, Tony,” Happy says.   
Tony groans and squirms in his seat, trying to get into a more comfortable position.  
“I’m bored.”  
“You won’t be soon,” Clint promises.  
“Ugh.”  
Clint huffs out an annoyed sound, and Tony twists in his seat to see his face. Clint doesn’t look angry, but he does look stressed. Tony shrinks in his seat. He didn’t mean to make Clint stress out, but he’s been alive long enough to know that it’s almost always his fault.  
Tony peeks to his left to get a look at Bucky, who looks as stoic as ever, but he’s probably just as annoyed.  
He should have known that he would be too much work for them all to deal with. Even his own parents got annoyed with him all the time. Jarvis was the only one who seemed to have endless patience. He doubts that any of the team have that with him. He hasn’t forgotten how quickly Steve got annoyed with him when they first met. Maybe they’ll all be better off if he’s not there to to ruin their lives. They probably had a lot of fun when he wasn’t around.  
“We’re here,” Happy announces, as he pulls up and opens Clint’s door.  
Tony notes that Clint is smiling again, but he obviously doesn’t want everyone to see him when he’s angry. He gently unbuckles Tony and lifts him from the car. He automatically sets Tony on his hip, but Tony squirms.  
“I want to walk,” he demands, pointing to the floor.  
Clint looks disappointed, but Tony doesn’t want him to put more effort into this than he needs to. Clint holds out his hand like he expects Tony to take it.  
“You’re not serious?” he asks, staring at the hand like it’s dangerous.  
“I don’t want you to go missing, Tones. You’re a wanderer. And you’re tiny. We’d never find you again.”  
Tony blinks stupidly before cautiously taking the hand, but in his head all he’s thinking is ‘we’d never find you again’.   
Is that because they wouldn’t want to? Should he just go ‘missing’? He’s a genius. He could survive on his own. He did when he was seven the first time. This was the age his parents had sent him to boarding school across the country. He had to fight against bullies who didn’t like him for being younger than them but smarter too. He sometimes was too scared to go to the cafeteria, so he learnt to make his own food on a hot plate.  
He can look after himself.  
Tony decides in that moment that maybe he shouldn’t burden them all with his problems. He’ll run away. It sounds dramatic, but until he can fix whatever is happening to him, he can’t be around his team. They have other things to think about, more important stuff to be doing.  
“You want to go on one of the rides?” Clint asks, hopefully.  
Tony eyes up the bumper cars. If he can convince Clint to let him drive his own, he can get lost in the crowd as they disembark, and disappear.  
“Bumper cars?” he suggests.   
“Excellent plan.”  
They whole team move towards the line, which isn’t as long as Tony had expected.   
“Who do you want as your co-pilot?” Clint asks.  
“I can do it myself!”  
“According to the age restriction, no you can’t.”  
“But i’m not really seven,” Tony whines.  
“I doubt the carny will accept that,” Clint says bluntly.  
Toy shrugs, staring at the carny like he personally offended him.   
“Whatever.”  
“I volunteer,” Bruce says, coming to stand by them both. “I’m a safe driver.”  
Tony shrugs again, and Clint lets go of his hand. Bruce doesn’t offer his own, which means Tony has free reign now. He just needs to wait a moment for them all to start moving and he can make a break for it.  
It takes fifteen minutes for the line to progress far enough for them to start climbing into the cars. Tony follows Bruce to the car, but people are everywhere, just as he hoped. He slyly moves away and into the heaving crowds of people leaving the ride. He hears someone shouting his name, but he’s so deep in the midst of the other carnival goers that he’s confident no one can see him. He moves towards the chain link fence that surrounds the place and finds a weak point. He jams a metal rod, undoubtedly from one of the rides, into it and twists until it snaps. He does this until the hole is big enough for him to get through and then slips out. It’s still daylight, but he can see a car park ahead, which will mask him until he can get to the high street and start looking for a place to set up.

~~~

It takes less than a second for Bruce to realize that Tony is missing. He’s climbing into the car and then when he realizes Tony isn’t with him, he jumps straight back up.  
“Tony?”   
Clint’s head snaps up from where he’s sat with Natasha, and he’s looking around, at first with curiosity and then with panic.  
“Where is he?”  
“He just disappeared!” Bruce calls.  
The avengers assemble. They’re all out of the cars and onto the grass within seconds.  
“Split into groups of two. Search the area. He can’t have gotten far,” Steve says, in his captain america voice.  
Clint is already shaking, and Natasha touches his elbow gently. Clint turns to her, wide eyed and nods. He knows he needs to be on his A-game.  
Bruce breaks off with Thor and they start moving towards the security.  
“We’ve lost a child,” Bruce says. “He’s about this high,” Bruce indicates up to his waist. “He has brown eyes and dark brown curly hair. He’s white, wearing a green hulk shirt, blue jeans and white sneakers.”  
The security doesn’t question Bruce further, sensing the panic, and immediately calls it in. Within seconds an announcement is made.   
“You stay here,” Thor instructs. “I will search from the sky.”  
Thor holds out his hand, and the security guard looks at him bemused, which morphs into shock when Mjolnir appears in his hand a minute later. Thor spins it around and in a clap of thunder, he has taken to the sky.  
“That was Thor,” the guard says, dumbly. “Carnivals bring out the strangest people.”

~~~

It’s getting dark now, and Tony doesn’t have a jacket. It’s getting cold, and he’s shivering. He’s lost, too, which doesn’t help. Everything looks different when you’re half the size. People look scarier, the buildings are all daunting, and the darkness presses down harder on him. Tony, against all his wishes, starts to tear up. He doesn’t want to go back to the Avengers, who’re likely to be relieved that he’s gone, but he doesn’t want to be on his own.  
“Hello,” a kind voice says. “Are you lost?”  
Tony turns around to face a young boy around fourteen. He looks concerned, and Tony stumbles back, landing on his arse.  
“Hey, don’t be scared. My name is Peter. Peter Parker.”  
Tony immediately looks to his wrists and sure enough, he can see the web shooters. The boy may not know who Tony is, but Tony has been following Parker’s progress since he first showed up on the streets in that strange red and blue get up.  
“Come on, kid. Lets go to the police station.”  
Peter holds out a hand, and had Tony not been so out of it, he’d have slapped it away and run. But he took it and allowed Peter to pull him through the streets. He feels so stupidly small, and he hangs close to Peters leg.   
“Who’re your parents?”  
“Dead.”  
Peter frowns in sympathy.  
“What’s your name?”  
“Tony.”  
Tony is just on autopilot now. Answering the questions as they’re asked. He’s too caught up with the fact that Spider-man is the one who found him, and is now taking him to the police station. He’s a good kid, which Tony reasons, explains why he does what he does.  
“OK, Tony, I’ll take you to the police station. They’ll look after you until they can find whoever you’re supposed to be with.”  
Tony nods nervously.  
“Who’s your favorite super hero?”  
“Spider-man,” Tony says, cracking a watery smile.  
Peter freezes for a second, but manages to regain him composure quickly.  
“Oh really? Why’s that? My favorite is Iron Man.”  
“Little self deprecating isn’t it?”  
Peter freezes again, and he doesn’t make a move to start walking again.  
“What?”  
Tony bites his bottom lip and shrugs.  
“How do... what... what?”  
Tony wipes at his eyes to stop the tears, and turns to face Peter.  
“I’m Tony Stark.”  
Peter freaks out then.


	10. He’s not going to like this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feels and stuff

“How is this possible?”  
Tony and Peter are stood in the middle of the street, and Peter is pale and shaken.  
“Loki.”  
“That man who opened up the wormhole?”  
“The exact same bag of cats,” Tony replies.  
Peter clearly finds the wording strange, but doesn’t question it. He just continues to stare at Tony until something jolts him into action.  
“I have to take you back to the avengers!”  
“You can’t!” Tony argues. “I ran away for a reason.”  
“You ran away?”  
Tony nods seriously.   
“I don’t want to go into detail, but it’s better for me to stay away until I figure this out.”  
“No offense, Mister Stark, but you’re in the body of a seven year old and I just found you crying on the street. I don’t know if you’re in the best place to be figuring this out on your own.”  
“Kid, it’s complicated, but I’m not going back.”  
“Friend Anthony!”  
Tony freezes and so does Parker. Thor, the big blond imposing god that he is, steps in front of Tony and shoots Peter a wary look.  
“Did this man kidnap you?” he asks Tony.  
Peter balks and shakes his head hastily.  
“He ran away, I just found him. No kidnapping involved, Mr. Thor, sir.”  
Tony curses under his breath.  
“You... ran away?”  
Thor sounds heart broken and Tony immediately feels guilty. He looks down at his shoes, which are covered in mud now and shrugs.  
“Why?”  
Tony shrugs again.  
“Uh, my Aunt is calling me. Sorry, but I’m gonna go. Tony, if you need anything, even when you’re big again- not that I’d be any use or- well, I can help withfighting- but I’m not as strong as- but-“  
“Calm down, young man,” Thor says, his voice a low rumble. “You go home.”  
Peter nods and practically runs away, and Tony stares after him longingly. If only he could run away properly. Now the rest of the avengers are going to have to pretend to care about him, and he’s already put enough pressure on them these past few days.  
“Tony?”  
Tony hugs his arms to his chest and glares at the floor.  
“Tony, come on. I have used the message device you gave me to inform the others of your retrieval.”  
Tony shudders to think how the others are going to react, but he doesn’t have to wait long. Within a minute of standing awkwardly with Thor, two cars pull up on the sidewalk.   
Clint falls out of the door in his haste to get to Tony, and before he can ever cry out in indignation, Clint has pulled him into a tight hug. Against his own wishes, Tony wraps his arms around Clint’s neck and buries his face in his shoulder. Clint stands up and starts rocking him gently.  
“Oh my god, Tony!” Clint whispers loudly. “I was so worried.”  
“Why?”  
Clint freezes, and the others fall silent around them.  
“What do you mean ‘why’?” Clint asks, shakily.   
Tony buried himself further into Clint’s shoulder, not quite ready to talk emotions. He finds Clint’s hold to be comfortable, and he just strengthens his grip. Clint seems to understand that he’s not ready to talk, and he climbs back into the car. He doesn’t force Tony into the stupid seat, and instead shifts him so he is sat sideways on his lap and holds him close. Tony leans into his chest, and grips the Pikachu tightly when Clint puts it in his arms.   
‘Odd’ he thinks. ‘Didn’t I throw this away?’  
Regardless, he holds on tightly, nuzzling it’s yellow skull. Clint’s arms make him feel safe, but they also help the tiredness creep up on him. He’d been running for almost two hours before he was apprehended, and his body is sagging.   
Regardless, he fights against the sleep, waiting patiently for the second wind to hit so that he can stave off unconsciousness until night time. It won’t do him any good if they think he needs to sleep so often.   
“So, itinerary is out of the window,” Clint says, making Tony twitch when the silence is permeated. “Movies and pizza?”  
Tony goes to answer, but realizes that there’s something in his mouth.   
When did he start sucking this thumb?!  
He moves to pull it out, but he feels a compulsion not to. It’s comforting. If he remembers correctly, it was something that helped him cope from being apart from Jarvis so much when he was at school. But he’s not at school. He’s a forty five year old man in the body of a seven year old. He doesn’t want comfort, he wants independence and to build things.  
Tony pulls his thumb out and pushes the toy onto the floor. He pushes away from Clint, and as much as he hates the damned thing, he climbs into the car seat and curls into himself, keeping his back to Clint and carefully not looking at Bucky. He can sense them both staring at him, but if running away isn’t an option, then avoidance is. He can do this. He’s a grown man really. He doesn’t need to be looked after.   
They arrive at the tower not long after, though the stretch of time feels longer due to the awkwardness.  
Tony ignores any one trying to help him and climbs from the car himself and runs over to the elevator before anyone else has a chance to catch up.  
“Labs, J,” Tony orders.  
“I’m sorry sir, but as per my protocols, you need to have Clint’s-“  
“Override code 78CIMD98.”  
The elevator doors close just as Clint is rushing forward.  
The elevator rises up through the building and Tony sags in the corner.   
“Sir?”  
Tony sighs heavily at the implied question in Jarvis’ voice, and shrugs, his new favorite form of communication.  
“Sir, might I suggest something?”  
“What?” Tony snaps, though he instantly regrets it. “Sorry.”  
“I believe it will benefit you to let them take care of you, regardless of whether you think you can ‘pay them back’.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“You’re the genius Sir, you tell me.”  
Tony offers a wobbly smile and scuffs his shoe on the floor.  
“I think,” JARVIS says, slowly and gently, “that you believe you’re only as good as you are useful. You do not see your own self worth because you were taught you had none. However, if I may be so bold sir, you have a lot about yourself to be proud of, and you are a good person. Your team, while they may have been distant at first, needed time to see past the mask you wore when you all first met. You are worth more than what you create, and, as you insisted, you are Iron Man sir, which means his accomplishments are yours.”  
Tony slides down the wall of the elevator, barely recognizing that it isn’t moving.   
“But they hate me.”  
The latch at the top of the elevator moves and Clint drops in and remains crouching in front of Tony.  
“No one hates you,” he says calmly as he pulls Tony into his arms and cradles him, holding his head to his chest. “No body hates you, I promise.”  
“You were angry at me today,” Tony says miserably.  
“When?”  
“In the car!”  
“I wasn’t,” Clint says, sounding confused,  
“You were. I saw on your face, you looked annoyed.”  
“I... no. No, Tony, I was just thinking about my kids. I don’t see them often and I miss them.”  
“And you can’t go back because of me,” Tony nods his understanding and tries to disentangle himself from Clint’s arms.  
“That’s not it at all.”  
“Don’t lie to make me feel better, Clint. I’m a grown man,” he says, while curled up on Clint’s lap, grasping the mans shirt with his stupidly small hands. “I understand. You can go back, you know. You can all put me into a care home or something until I grow up. I don’t want to weigh your lives down. I’m sorry, Ok? I’m sorry!”  
Clint squeezes Tony tightly and kisses him on top of his head.   
“Tony, I don’t know how you convinced yourself that you were a problem, but you’re not, Ok? And I might just go back. But only if you’re coming with me.”  
“To visit your family?”  
“Yeah. Why not?”  
Tony doesn’t say anything, not sure whether it’s worth being hopeful or not. On the one hand, he understands that Clint’s personal life is purposefully kept separate from the avengers, but on the other hand, it would be nice to get away for a while.   
“I’ll need to clear it with Laura first, my wife, and then Fury, but it’ll be good for us all, I think. To get away.”  
Clint stands up, carrying Tony like he was a baby. He doesn’t want to complain though. He kind of wants to be miserable.  
“You hungry? The others are waiting for you before we order.”  
“Pizza?” Tony asks, hopefully.  
“Of course.”  
Clint lays Tony out on the sofa and then starts talking to Jarvis, asking him to order the food in.   
“You Ok, kid?” Bucky asks in a low voice.  
“You know I’m not actually a kid, right?” Tony asks, pushing himself into a sitting position.   
“I’m older than you.”  
“You’re in you’re twenties!”  
“How do we measure age, Tony?”  
Tony opens his mouth to argue, but stops himself short. He can’t argue a point there and still stand by his earlier accusation.  
Tony grins at Bucky then. They haven’t had much time to talk since Tony returned, what with the shock of his physical regression. It’s kind of nice to find out that he’s sharp and funny.   
“That’s what I thought,” Bucky  
laughs.  
“Cut it, deep freeze. I win points for maturity at least.”  
“You use that word in a context that suggests you don’t know what it means.”  
Tony laughs, and rolls his eyes.  
“Whatever, man. If you want to do it so badly, you can call me kid.”  
“I was going to whether I had your permission or not.”  
“You two seem to be bonding nicely,” Clint says as he lands on the sofa beside Tony.  
Tony jumps at the sudden appearance and Bucky grabs him before he falls off of the sofa and onto the floor.  
“Oh my god, your face!” Clint bursts into a peak of laughter while Tony scowls at his rude behavior. “You look like you were about to wet yourself.”  
Bucky is laughing too, and Tony feels betrayed.   
“You guys are mean,” Tony complains, as he wiggles out of Bucky’s hands and climbs over his legs. “I’m going over here where the nice people are.”  
Thor openly accepts the compliment and pats the small space between himself and Steve. Tony happily sits between them, and sticks his tongue out at Bucky and Clint who’re still laughing from the other end of the sofa.  
“Pizza has arrived,” Jarvis announces.  
“I’ll get it,” Natasha volunteers.  
Within twenty minutes, Tony is leaning back on the sofa, his hands on his stomach and food around his mouth. The others are still eating, but Tony is content to just relax and watch the movie.   
“You’re a mess,” Clint complains as he attacks Tony’s face with a cloth. “How did you get more food on your face than in your stomach?”  
Clint makes his point by poking Tony’s stomach and making him giggle.   
“Stop Clint, or I’ll be sick!”  
Clint relents, and sits back at his side of the sofa to watch the movie. The expected Tony to be passed out before the credits started to roll, but they didn’t expect him to shrink before their eyes.  
“He’s not going to like this,” Steve whispers, staring at Tony in shock.


	11. Out?

Clint can’t stop staring at Tony. He’s curled up in the edge Thor’s cape, with his thumb in his mouth, his clothes hanging off him, and fast asleep. He looks like the child of an angel, but he also looks like he’s the age of a toddler.   
Four at most.   
“How far is this going to go, Thor? Will we need to be buying a crib soon? I’m not equipped to look after a baby on my own.”  
“Ok, first, you’re not alone,” Natasha scolds quietly, “and second, this isn’t Thor’s fault. Cut him some slack and remember you have a team.”  
Clint is definitely in shock, though Natasha seems to be the only one taking this in her stride. Thor is frozen in place, both struck by the anger and scared to move lest he wake the child. Bruce has lost his tan and is simply pale and hiding behind his hands. Steve is on Tony’s other side and he’s looking between Clint and Tony frantically. Bucky looks emotionless, but Clint doesn’t think that’s a problem at all. One less emotional person to deal with.  
“Should we take him to bed?” Bruce asks, after finally removing his hand.  
“Yeah, I guess we should.”  
No one looks sure of themselves as Clint lifts Tony into his arms.  
“He’s so small,” Clint whispers, looking down at Tony’s tiny form. “I don’t... this isn’t going to stop. We have no idea how to fix this and soon he might not even know he’s supposed to be forty.”  
Clint moves then, carrying Tony to his room and laying him on the bed. He carefully changes him into too big Pyjamas, and covers him with duvet, melting at the way Tony shifts around and his too small arms try to grasp the pikachu. His thumb returns to his mouth and he makes a strange snuffling sound.  
He looks so small in the bed and so young that Clint can’t handle leaving the kid alone for the night. Clint changes into his own pajamas quickly, and returns to the room. Tony is so small and the bed is so big that Clint has no problem climbing in without moving Tony accidentally. 

Clint wakes up the next morning with a weight on his chest and panic that he’s having an episode of sleep paralysis. He slowly opens his eyes and sighs in relief when he realizes it’s just Tony, who has crawled on him in the middle of the night. He’s sprawled across Clint’s chest, one hand gripping his shirt tightly and the other in his mouth. Clint daren’t move. The sooner he wakes up Tony, the sooner Tony realizes how far it’s gotten and the sooner they have to deal with the fallout. It won’t be pleasant for any of them, so it’s best if they delay it as long as possible.   
Clint lays on the bed for another hour or so, with Tony sleeping uninterrupted on his chest before anything happens.   
It starts small. Tony shifts in his sleep, his face scrunching up in fear maybe. Then he whimpers and Clint can only watch on in horror as Tony starts to have a full blown nightmare.  
He starts to thrash, but it’s not until  
he mutters: “no dad, I’m sorry,” that Clint jumps into action. He sits up and pulls Tony into his arms, holding him tightly until his eyes flutter open. His breath comes in short gasps and tears start to well up in his eyes alarmingly fast. He’s clearly torn between fear of Clint, a result of sleepy confusion, and needing to hold something. His hand is still wrapped up in Clint’s shirt, and the other is out, like it’s ready to fend off an attack.  
“You’re Ok. It’s just us. We’re in your room. You’re safe,” Clint promises.   
Tony keeps shaking, but the tears are already slowing down. Clint almost sags in relief, but he needs to keep calming Tony down before he has a full blown panic attack.  
After ten excruciating minutes, Tony seems to calm down and his eyes narrows and his brows fuse together.  
“I... I feel smaller.”  
It’s all Tony says, but his voice is so childlike, and the vowels stumble  
over each other, that Clint can’t help himself when he brushes his hands through Tony’s hair.  
“You shrank again last night,” he admits. “You look about four.”  
“Well... shit.”  
“Language,” Clint says, unable to help himself. “It sounds strange coming from a toddler.”  
“I’m not-“  
“I know, you’re not a toddler, but still.”  
Tony seems to realize that he’s still in Clint’s arms and he pushes himself out and sits on the bed.  
“I’m going to die, aren’t I?” Tony says, quietly. “I’m going to get younger and younger and younger and then I’ll stop existing. I’ll say this about Loki though, his revenge plots are creative.”  
“And terrifying,” Clint agrees.  
“Now what? I think we’re out of ideas on how to fix this. Short of Loki seeing the error of his ways and fixing this, I think it’s safe to assume I won’t be getting better any time soon.”  
“We should speak to Thor, see what he thinks.”  
Tony nods and makes to climb from the bed, but it’s higher than he is used to. His feet hit the floor a little too hard and he stumbles backwards and lands on his ass. He’s overcome with the need to cry, even though it didn’t hurt. Shakily, he pushes himself back up, but Clint seems to recognize that he’s teetering on the edge of panic, and the next thing he knows, Clint has his hands in Tony’s armpits and he’s being put on Clint’s hip.  
Tony wants to object, but then Clint puts his hand on the back of Tony’s head and gently guides it down onto his shoulder. Tony just accepts his fate, and grips Clint’s shirt as tightly as possible.   
“I’ve got you,” Clint murmurs as he carries Tony from the room. “You’re not hurt.”  
“I know,” Tony replies, a little too thickly. “I’m not a baby, you don’t have to act like I am.”  
Clint chuckles softly and pushes his fingers through Tony’s hair. Surprisingly, Tony doesn’t push away the contact, and instead leans into it, like a cat. Or, well, more like a kitten. It’s undeniably adorable, and from the soft looks of most of the team members who’re sat around the table, they think so too.  
“Food?”  
“Bananas!” Tony cheers, as Clint sets him on the stool. “And Orange juice, please.”  
Clint’s body jerks in surprise at the politeness, and he’s not sure if Tony’s never been polite, or if it’s something he’s only just noticed.  
He chooses not to bring it up in case Tony gets offended, and instead continues to make him his food.  
After chopping up a banana and pouring him some orange juice, Clint turns to place it on the table. Apparently it’s a little too quick for Tony, because he flinches so harshly that he falls from the chair. Steve is quicker, and he grabs Tony around the waist and lifts him up, ignoring the squeak of fear. He settles Tony on his lap and wraps a secure arm around his waist holding him in tightly. Tony wiggles a little to test how tightly he’s being held and how easily he can get free, and when he realizes he can’t make Steve let go, he pouts.  
Clint would have found it funny if he wasn’t so shocked by how close Tony had come to falling off of the table. It’s not a long drop, but his small body would compensate for that, and he could have been seriously injured. Is four too old for a booster seat?  
“Eat up, cause we need to go clothes shopping all over again,” Clint says.  
“I don’t want to!” Tony whines. “I can just wear my shirts as a tunic or something.”  
“Not happening.”  
Tony pouts again, but it’s interrupted when Steve picks up a bit of Banana and holds it up to Tony’s mouth. Tony opens up, but Clint knows he intended to to complain. Steve is likely aware of this too, but he pops the banana in his mouth anyway, and Tony has no choice but to chew.  
Breakfast continues in the same manner, but when Tony goes to pick up the glass, his little hands can’t get a proper grip and he drops it on the floor.  
Tony’s eyes widen in horror as he stares from the mess to Clint.  
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t... it was an accident and I...”  
“Hey, Tones, calm down,” Clint says soothingly. He picks up the dust pan and brush from under the sink and starts to clear up the mess. Tony is shaking by the time he’s finished, and visibly flinches away when Clint stands back up.  
“Hey, what’s wrong?”  
Tony, in a rather childish manner, clamps his mouth shut, and shakes his head.  
“Come on, you can talk to me,” Clint encourages.  
Tony turns his face away, and Steve gently rubs his back. Tony twitches at the contact but slowly melts into it and his thumb starts to drift towards his mouth. However, in a rather violet jerk, his hands are by his side and his face is reddening.  
“Ok, I think it’s time to get washed up and ready to go. Bath?”  
Tony nods hesitantly and tries to wriggle out of Steve’s grasp again,  
but Steve just stands up and carries Tony on his hip. Clutching at his shirt with his little hands, Tony looks affronted, but a little worried about the height.  
Clint jogs ahead to turn the water on, but he needn’t have bothered. Jarvis, as usual, is on top of things and the bath is filled a quarter of the way up.  
Steve lowers Tony to the floor and then they all stand around in kind of awkward silence.   
“Well?” Tony says. “You may leave now.”  
Steve runs a head through he hair and looks to Clint imploringly. Obviously they’re both thinking the same thing.  
“Tony, were not sure that’s such a great idea.”  
Tony blinks at them and then looks confused.  
“I can take a bath on my own guys.”  
“What if you can’t? What if you slip under the water a drown?”  
“Jarvis will tell you,” Tony argues. “I’m not taking a bath with you two here.”  
“What about if we just turn around and face away from you?”  
Tony deliberates his options, and then nods his agreement.  
Clint and Steve both turn around as promised and Tony turns towards the bath. He strips and then tries to climb in, but the sides are too high. His face starts to burn with embarrassment, and his attempts become more frantic.   
He screams when a pair of warm hands lift him from the floor and deposits him gently into the tub.  
“Sorry, but you can’t take a bath unless you’re in it.”  
Tony scowls, but Clint doesn’t seem bothered. In fact, Clint seems to take this one attempt at help as a door to doing everything for him.   
He takes a wash cloth and loads it up with soap, and starts to lather it into Tony’s skin. Tony starts to push away, but the gentle massaging calms him down quickly and his eyes drift half shut. Steve moves to sit at the side of the tub and looks up at the ceiling.   
“We should buy bath toys,” Clint suggests.  
“Why bother? I won’t exist in a week,” Tony says, casually.  
“You don’t know that,” Steve challenges.  
“I think I do. I think we can all admit that this isn’t stopping any time soon. Which means I won’t be alive much longer.”  
Clint and Steve both fall silent, knowing that there’s no sense in disagreeing with Tony, because it would only prolong a conversation say they inevitably lose.  
“Come on then, I think you’re all clean now. Up and out.”  
Clint lifts Tony from the bath and Steve immediately wraps him in a large fluffy towel, effectively making him a Tony Burrito, which he spares no time complaining about.  
“I can dry myself,” he says.   
“Yeah, but you don’t need to. Learn to accept help when it’s offered.”  
Tony grumbles as Clint efficiently dries him off and then helps him into the too-big clothes.  
“All ready and set now,” Clint declares happily, as he sets Tony on his hip. “Lets go buy some clothes. Anything you want to do today?”  
Tony shakes his head and Clint decides they’ll go out anyway. Seems pointless to waste their days indoors.  
“Hey Happy,” Clint calls as they disembark the elevator. “Did you get what I asked for?”  
Happy is stood by the hood of the car sweating, his hair plastered to his forehead.  
“Yeah, but I had a hell of a time installing it. Why’d they make it so hard for?”  
Clint laughs, and he can feel Tony squirming, obviously trying to see what they are talking about. Clint tightens his hold, praying that he won’t fall.  
“I’m not a baby!” Tony cries out when he sees the newly installed booster seat in the car.   
It’s far smaller than the one before, with extra straps that go over his shoulders and between his legs, whereas the other incorporated the normal seat belt.  
“Sorry Tones, but the law won’t see it that way. It’s only a short ride.”  
Tony vehemently doesn’t want to sit in the seat, but for all his struggle, he’s ineffective in delaying it. Clint has him strapped in tightly in no time, and he pays no mind to Tony’s pointless attempts to unlock it. His fingers aren’t coordinated enough or strong enough to take it off.  
When Tony realizes this, he seems to decide that the next logical course of action is to pull at the straps and kick his legs while whining. It reminds Clint of his own children, and he can’t help but find it endearingly adorable.  
“Do you want your pikachu?” Clint offers, pulling it out of his pack.  
“No! I want to get out!”  
Tony’s bottom lip juts out and his eyes fill with tears as he turns to Clint. He holds his arms out and flexes his fists.  
“Out?” he asks, shyly enough that Clint is almost convinced.  
“Oh, you’re sly, Tony. Don’t turn that cuteness onto me. It won’t work.”  
Tony kicks his legs in frustration, and despite his earlier protests, he accepts the toy when it’s presented to him. His holds on ear steadily in his hand while the other grips the front of his shirt. His thumb is stuck out, and Clint can tell he wants to suck it from the way he’s biting his lip. Why he’s more reluctant now than before is anyone’s guess, but Clint would rather not engage in intrusive questions while he’s in such a bad mood.  
When they arrive, Clint climbs out of the car without unbuckling Tony, which earns him a screech of indignation. However, once Happy has handed him the second package he requested, he leans in and undoes the seatbelt and pulls Tony out. While Tony is distracted with their surroundings, Clint manages to maneuver him into the harness.  
“What is this?” Tony shouts, pulling at the straps. “Dammit, Clint! I’m not a dog.”  
“No, but I can’t have you wondering off like last time. You terrified me.”  
He sets Tony on the ground and together they walk into the department store, Steve quietly at his heels and Happy choosing to remain at the car.  
“Pick whatever you want, kid,” Clint says, waving an arm regally to the array of clothes. “God damn, deja-vu is hitting me hard right now.”  
Tony isn’t paying attention though, too busy tugging at the harness, and looking at Clint in a way that shows just how offended he is.  
Eventually, they manage to pick up some clothes, though Tony claims to hate all of them. Clint understands his distaste though. They are very childish, but the options are limited.  
“I want to go home,” Tony whines, as they walk out of the store. “My legs hurt.”  
That problem, Clint decides, is an easy one to solve. He lifts Tony up again, and instead of his usual flow of annoyance, Tony simply lays his head on Clint’s shoulders and allows himself to be carried.  
It’s not until they’re on the road again that Clint understands why. Tony is tired. Though he fights against it, his eyes eventually drift closed and less than a minute later he has a thumb in his mouth and an arm wrapped tightly around Pikachus neck.  
“Where to next?” Happy asks.  
“The smithsonian. I have a feeling that Tony will like that when he wakes up.”  
“Got it, boss.”


	12. Buck?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #WinterSoldierInDaHouse

Tony was still fast asleep when they arrived, and one of the staff helpfully gave them a pushchair for him to nap in until he woke up. Clint had the feeling that Tony would hate it, but he carefully strapped him in anyway and started to walk aimlessly around. Steve seemed interested in everything, but Clint was too focused on not jolting the chair and prematurely waking Tony up.   
“He’s awake,” Steve observes, twenty minutes into their directionless wandering.  
Clint stops the push chair and kneels down beside Tony.  
“Morning sleepy head,” Clint says smiling.  
Tony blinks sleepily at him, and when he tries to rub his eyes, he realizes that his hands are otherwise occupied. He frowns in confusion, and then his face burns red when he pulls his thumb from his mouth.  
“Sorry,” he mumbles, averting his eyes to the floor.  
“Don’t apologize. You’re all good.”  
Tony shrugs and holds the Pikachu closer to his chest.   
“Do you know where we are?” Clint asks, hoping to pull a smile from his face.  
Tony lifts his head and looks around before his eyes widen in surprised excitement.  
“The Smithsonian,” he says.  
Or at least, Clint assumes that’s what he’s trying to say. It sounds more garbled than that, coming out as “Smithsnun”, but Clint elects to ignore that.  
“Exactly. You like this place?”  
“Never been,” Tony shrugs and leans against the straps to look around more.  
Clint watches him as it dawns on him.  
“Am I in a pram?” he asks, outraged.  
“You were napping, the nice lady at the desk suggested it,” Clint explains calmly. “It looks pretty comfortable.”  
“S’not the point, I want out!” Tony extends both arms and makes the grabby hands at Clint.  
“If you’re coming out, you’ll still have to have the harness on.”  
Tony’s scowl deepens, but it’s obvious that he’s debating the pros and cons of the two options.  
“I want to walk,” he declares,  
holding his arms up again.   
Clint concedes and lifts him from  
the pram and into his arms.  
“Steve, can you take this back to the front desk? Tones and I won’t wonder too far.”  
Steve’s nods complacently and pushes the pram away.  
Clint guides Tony’s arms through the straps and then sets him on the floor.  
“Ready for a historic adventure?” Clint asks, enthusiastically.  
“Was that a pun?”  
“Maybe it was,” Clint says noncommittal, though it was definitely accidental.  
Tony snickers, but his attention span has dropped significantly and he tries to run towards a display of miniature war vehicle.  
Clint has to jog to make sure he doesn’t snap back on the reigns, because he can foresee that not ending well.  
“Cool, Clint look, a tank!”  
Steve returns while Tony is ogling the display.  
“I’ve ridden in one of those,” he says, casually.  
“Really? I though my dad was just lying,” Tony says in an awed voice. “He told me you jumped out of a plane without a parachute once too, but he was drunk.”  
“Your dad talked about me?” Steve asks, surprised.  
“Yeah,” Tony replies, turning to look at a life sized model wearing an old WWll costume. “All the time. Said ‘Rogers was my greatest creation, unlike...’”  
Tony freezes, and even though he hasn’t turned around, Clint can tell he’s wearing a pained expression.  
“It’s so cool you got to ride in a tank. I always wanted one as a kid, but Jarvis said ‘no’. Apparently I shouldn’t have a tank if I’m just three years old.”  
“You had your AI when you were three?”  
Tony scoffs and turns around to look at Steve with an exasperated expression, which on normal Tony would probably have been annoying but on small Tony it is simply one on the cutest things he’s ever seen, because it’s like watching a child trying to be their parents.  
“No! The real Jarvis. My butler. He loved me the most, he said, and sometimes, when dad was out, he’d read me a story when I couldn’t sleep.”  
Steve looks like he’s processing the information, and Clint knows why. Tony has inadvertently over-shared about his life, and a lot of previously private information is suddenly out there for analysis.  
“Jarvis sounds swell,” Steve ventures, uncertainly.   
“He’s dead now.”  
Clint and Steve don’t say anything more on the matter, they just comment whenever Tony excitedly points out something he can see. He’s got the look of childlike wonderment that one would expect on an actual child, and not one who is actually a forty year old physically regressed man.  
It simply solidifies the fact that with each regression, his mind is slowly slipping back. It is kind of nice, though, because while Clint hadn’t known Tony for very long, he could tell that he was a hard worker who preferred long nights inventing over sleeping, eating and having a normal social life. So to see him allowing himself to have fun is refreshing, and while it’s under the least ideal circumstances, it’s healthy for him to let loose.  
By the time they’re finished in the smithsonian, Clint is tired and more than a little overwhelmed. Between the long explanations that Tony gave, the comments about how smart ‘his little boy’ is and the revelations about Tony’s childhood, he’s about ready to drop.  
“Home?” Tony asks, as he lifts his arms. “My legs hurt.”  
Clint easily obliges, and the three of them return to the car. Tony fusses again when he’s put back into the seat, but his struggle dies down as they start the drive back. He doesn’t fall asleep, but Clint almost does.  
Steve carries Tony into the tower, Clint trailing behind, too tired to bother inputting on the rather fast one sided conversation that they’re having.  
“My favorite dinosaur has always been the pteranodon, because they look the coolest, but Dad said that wasn’t a good enough reason and that I was being stupid but Jarvis said that a pteranodon was a cool dinosaur, so I think it’s OK. I used to imagine what it would be like to fly on one, even though I know it’s impossible. For almost a whole month I wanted to be a paleontologist, but dad said he’d cut me off and never speak to me again if I did, and I knew I wouldn’t get to see Jarvis again if I did that, but Aunt Peggy says that I can go stay with her if I want to, and she tells me the best stories about Captain America when I stay with her, so it wouldn’t be all bad, but I love Jarvis the most so I would still be sad.”  
Tony doesn’t stop talking until they’re sat down again on the sofa. Natasha, having become strangely domestic in the time they were gone, sets down a plate of sandwiches and a sippy cup, which is what silenced Tony. Tony glares at it, and then at her, and then at Clint.  
“No.”  
“Tones, come on, it’ll be easier for you to drink out of.”  
“No.”  
“If you drop it it won’t spill.”  
“No.”  
“Look, Tony,” Clint is too tired to be dealing with pointless stubbornness. “Drink out of the cup or you don’t get anything to drink at all, understand?”  
Tony freezes. He becomes so eerily still that Clint is immediately on edge. He’s never seen a child so fearful before, and the guilt at causing it is overpowering.  
“Shit, Tony I’m sorry,” he whispers, reaching over to pick him up.  
Tony flinches and grabs Steve’s arm with both of his arms.  
“I won’t hurt you,” he promises.  
“M’sorry, I didn’t... I’ll use the cup, I swear, just don’t... M’sorry!”  
Tears start to form in Tony’s eyes, and Steve takes initiative and pulls Tony into his lap and hugs him tightly. Tony buries his face into Steve’s chest, and Clint watches, heart broken.  
“I’m Sorry, Tony,” he says, lamely. “I’m not angry, I’m just cranky. All that walking tired me out, and the museum was just so awesome and I don’t have the brain capacity to take it all in. I’m not as smart as you.”  
Tony shifts in Steve’s arms so that he can see Clint. His eyes are red and he has fear tracks down his face.  
“You’re smart,” he argues, softly.  
“You’re plenty smart.”  
Clint isn’t sure what to say to that, but Tony makes his indecisiveness redundant when he holds out his arms for Clint. He happily picks Tony up, and also puts the plate of sandwiches between him and Steve. He offers Tony one and he takes it and immediately starts to eat, taking slow nibbles and humming when he finds the taste agreeable. Clint and Steve both eat too, carefully watching Tony to make sure he’s eating enough. He’s three small triangles in when he stops and looks at Clint, his mouth twisted into a small frown.  
“What’s wrong?”  
Tony points at the cup, a small blush appearing on his face. Clint leans over to grab it and holds it up for Tony, who takes it, holding both handles and taking a long drink. A little bit dribbles down his chin and Steve is there with a napkin in a nanosecond, wiping it away.   
When he’s done, he leans into Clint’s chest and yawns widely. He snuggles into Clint’s chest and as his eyes close, his hand drifts up to his mouth.   
It doesn’t take long for Clint to follow suit, sans the thumb.

~*~*~

Steve watches as they both drift off to sleep, but then his attention is taken away by Bucky who is stood in the kitchen watching their backs, possibly both literally and figuratively.  
“You K, Buck?”  
Buck blinks and turns to face Steve. A forced smile breaks upon his face and it makes Steve instantly uneasy.   
“Bucky?”  
“Yes, Steven?”  
Steve tenses up, and he looks between Bucky and Tony. He can’t have the winter soldier in the same room as their vulnerable team-mate. It would be an unmitigated disaster.  
“Bucky, stay with me, man. You’re in Avengers tower. You’re safe. You’re James Buchanan Barnes. You are not the soldier. You are not with Hydra. You’re with me, Steve Rodgers, otherwise known as punk or jerk.”  
Bucky’s flat expression doesn’t waver, which makes his next actions more surprising.  
Before Steve has the time to even think about making a move, Bucky has leaped forward, torn Tony from Clint’s arms and he smashes his way out of the window, shattering the glass and carpeting the floor with the sharp shards.  
“Whasgoinon?” Clint mumbles, looking startled but half awake.  
Steve doesn’t have time to explain, he jumps over to the window and looks down at the sidewalk below, where apart from a few confused looking people, there’s no sign of Bucky or Tony anywhere. It was at least fifteen stories, but they obviously somehow managed to survive.  
“Fuck,” Steve whispers.


	13. A strange habit of underestimation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buck stuff

Tony wakes to the painfully familiar feeling of falling. The clutches to the closest thing in arms reach, which happens to be Bucky’s hair, but he doesn’t have time to question why this might be, because he can feel death rushing toward him.  
His screams are torn from his throat by the rushing air, it’s the air from his lungs is knocked out of him when Bucky’s entire body jolts as he uses the slight curve of the building to ease their falling.   
When they reach the ground, Bucky tucks Tony into his body and rolls with the velocity. Almost immediately he’s up and running through the streets.  
Tony’s heart by this point has reached his throat, and he fights for a better grip on Bucky without getting tangled in his hair.  
“Bucky... what?”  
Bucky turns his head just enough so that Tony can see his eyes and know that he’s not dealing with Bucky Barnes at all, but rather the soldier.  
That was more than enough to send chills across his whole body, and he was busy trying to find out if it was ironic that the winter soldier made him feel cold when he realized The Winter Soldier was breaking into a car.  
“Don’t do... dammit, this is gonna make it harder to fix,” Tony grumbles as TWS forces him into a child’s seat behind the drivers seat.   
Tony isn’t sure whether calling attention to himself would be worth the hassle, so he opts to let it play out. At this point, he’s comfortable in the idea that he’s probably not being murdered, because the soldier doesn’t play those games. He’d be dead already. It must be something else. Something more like kidnapping, though what he’d want with Tony is something he can’t figure out yet. He needs more information, more factors, because no workable theory is based on one variable.  
The Soldier manages to hot wire the car, though Tony notes that it was done with less efficiency than it should be. Either Bucky needs some time to tune up his skills, or he’s not all soldier right now.  
“What’re we doing?” Tony asks.  
The Soldier doesn’t reply. He just drives, pulling into the traffic and weaving through with just enough calmness that it won’t raise suspicion. Clever.   
“I’m not asking for your evil monologue. Just want to know where we’re going.”  
“Shut up,” the soldier growls frustrated.  
Tony purses his lips, and he has to fight against the cry. Clearly his form is changing his emotional capabilities, and he does not appreciate it at all.  
He’s spent a long time cultivating his personality, so that he can hide behind his shades and cocky smile and avoid people thinking he’s vulnerable or asking testy questions. It was a long road from living with his fathers oppressive rule to making a name for himself under the family mantle, but he did it, he’s proud, and yet here he is. In an impossible to undo car seat, kidnapped (again) by the man who he knows killed his parents.  
“I don’t blame you,” Tony says, softly. “For murdering my parents. I know that wasn’t you. I know it was an order, and your conditioning was unbreakable. So I don’t blame you.”  
The Soldiers hands jerk on the wheel momentarily, but he gets his head back into gear and he keeps driving in dead silence with those cold eyes that encapsulate the siberian winter, so cold and harsh and uncaring.

~~~

Despite really not wanting to, Tony falls asleep. They had been driving for hours and hours with no discernible signs as to where they are heading and Tony grew bored. It should have been the kind of experience that kept a person awake, but since his birth, Tony has been kidnapped over fifteen times, and this is definitely one of the least vicious of them all. Except for some scared pregnant teenager that was grasping at straws on how to get money, the rest were brutal and vile. Not counting afghanistan, his worst was when he was seven years old and the kidnappers broke both his legs to keep him running away, and fractured almost half of his ribs when they kicked him to stop him crying. It wasn’t effective, so they simply locked him in a cupboard for a month, feeding him enough to keep him alive.  
He would have died had it not been Aunt Peggy and her crew of heroes coming to save him when Howard refused to ‘bargain with brutes’.  
This is positively a walk in the park in comparison, so forgive him for dozing off.  
When he woke though, he regretted it.  
The first thing he noticed when he came to what that he was no longer in the car. The second thing he noticed was that he was in a crib. An actual crib. And third, Bucky was staring at him.  
“Buck?”  
He Tony cringed at how gargled his words were, and he went to pull this thumb from his mouth only to realize that he didn’t have it in there in the first place. No, that was a pacifier.  
Tony sits up, which is a struggle on its own, and he spits it out and glares at the offending item like it just offended his mother.  
“You shrunk,” Buck says without guile.   
Fourth thing he notices is that he’s wearing a diaper. And fifth? It’s wet.  
“What? What’s going on. Get me out of here.”  
“I think you’re one, maybe two,” Buck says. “And FYI, I can’t understand much of what you’re saying.”   
Tony starts to panic. He’s shrunk again. He’s getting closer to nonexistence and now he’s on the run with a half assassin half kid from brooklyn. His life is definitely not getting better.  
“I think you need another change.”  
Another? Tony feels himself being lifted from the crib, but he’s too busy looking around for signs of the time. His eyes find a plastic bag filled with diapers, pacifiers, baby bottles and formula before they find a clock. It’s early in the morning, late enough that it can be called morning, but early enough that Tony knows that’s it’s wrong to be awake. He’s been sleeping for almost twelve hours, and he has no idea when the change happened, so he could have been a baby the entire time. There’s no saying.  
Bucky gently lays Tony down on a towel and unsnaps the romper he’s in at the crotch. Tony tries to squirm away, humiliated beyond words, but Bucky simply places a hand on his stomach and goes on with the change calmly and without preamble. Tony’s entire body burns red as the diaper is pulled down and Bucky starts to clean him off, powder him up and put him into clean, dry diaper.  
“There we are,” Bucky soothes, and he snaps the romper back up and pulls Tony to his chest and stands bouncing him. “There we are, you’re OK now.”  
Tony finds himself calming down, even though he really doesn’t want to, at the movement. His panic doesn’t start to rise again until Bucky sits down and pulls a bottle from a bucket of water and presses the teat into Tony’s mouth. Tony tries to move his head, to stop it from happening, but Bucky isn’t fazed. He makes the bottle follow Tony’s movement and squeezes it enough that a trickle enters Tony’s mouth. He has two choices, and he can either choke on it or drink it. He chooses the latter.  
“There you are, drink up,” Bucky encourages. “Good boy.”  
Tony kicks his legs in frustration, but he can’t stop drinking now. The flow is unrepentant and unless he wants to die, he has to go with it. When the bottle is finished, Bucky brings Tony back up to his chest and starts to pat his back until Tony burps.  
“I know this isn’t ideal and I’m sorry the soldier took you from the tower,” Bucky says, cradling Tony in his arms, “but he didn’t want to hurt you. I think he was trying to protect you.”  
“From what?”  
“I don’t know what you’re saying.”  
Tony frowns, and tries to squirm out of his arms again, but he can’t.  
“Don’t work yourself up. It’ll just stress you out.”  
Tony finds that he doesn’t care much for his tone, but when he tries to shout, it comes out more of a cry, and then he can’t stop the tears.  
Within seconds he’s screaming so loud that it hurts his own ears, and Bucky looks positively alarmed.  
His solution, however, is to offer Tony the pacifier, and when that doesn’t work, he places Tony in a push chair, one he has to lay down in, and takes him out of what is obviously a motel.  
Tony’s crying doesn’t stop, no  
matter how much he wants it to, and he struggles to sit up, only to be pushed by down by Bucky.  
They enter a park about five minutes later, and Bucky starts to aimlessly the push the pram around. Tony can only see Bucky’s face and the trees above them as they wander around, and eventually the exhaustion hits him again. His cries turn to sobs and then into hiccups. Bucky puts the breaks on the pram and lifts him out, rocking him side to side until his eyelids start getting heavy again. When Bucky pushes the pacifier into his mouth, he doesn’t complain, because much as he hates to admit it, it’s soothing.  
“I called Steve. They’re on there way.”  
Tony doesn’t say anything, but his fingers tighten around Bucky’s shirt when they start to move again, Bucky’s human arm holding him to his chest and his other arm pushing the pram.   
Tony isn’t sure when, but he starts to doze off again, and he only comes to when he feels his diaper being changed.  
“There we are, all clean,” Bucky promises. “Steve will be here soon.”  
Tony looks away from him, not wanting to admit how vulnerable and small he feels. Which is very, by the way.   
Bucky places Tony back into the Crib, and moves to sit on the bed to watch. Again, Tony drifts into an uneasy sleep.  
When Tony wakes up again, the room is empty. He pushes himself up, and tries to stand but his legs are weak beneath him. He grabs hold of the sides of the crib to keep him upright and and frantically looks around the room. Bucky isn’t anywhere to be seen.  
He’s been left on his own, in this stupid crib in his stupid body in the stupid motel room. And he’s not sure how he’s going to get out.   
He shifts himself to the edge of the retractable wall and feels around on the other side of it for the release mechanism. His hands land on something cold and hard and he starts to try and manipulated it, but his dumb baby fingers won’t work the way he wants them to. He’s just managed to get some give when the door opens and Bucky comes in with a shopping bag in his arm.  
“You’re awake.”  
Tony keeps trying to unlatch the crib, but Bucky puts the shopping down and lifts Tony up, only to put him on the floor.  
Tony glares up at Bucky, who is far more imposing from this height, but Bucky pays no heed. He starts to pull things out of the bag, including a few new items of clothing for Tony and a set of children’s kitchenware. Tony wants to laugh at them being Avengers merch, but instead he sets about pushing himself into standing position.   
“Steve will be here soon,” Bucky promises.  
Tony ignores him as he manages to stand on his own two feet. He stumbles on the first step and has to grab onto the side of the crib to steady himself. He appreciates that Bucky isn’t watching him struggle, because it’s humiliating and painful. He wants nothing more than to just be big again, but he’s not sure how that’s going to be achieved.  
Tony is working at walking for almost twenty minutes before he’s able to take more than two steps unaided.  
“I knew you’d get there,” Bucky says from his perch on the bed, where’s e entertaining himself by reading a book. “The others seem to think because you’re not a super soldier or a god or a trained assassin that you’re incapable, but I’ve known since day one that you’re the kind of man that can do anything if you set your mind to it.”  
Tony looks up in surprise. He’d always assumed that Bucky thought less of him. Partly because he was the failed son of Howard, and party because he was just a normal human. A civilian, despite how much he worked to prove himself otherwise.  
“Thanks,” Tony says.  
He’s surprised when he sees the pacifier fall from his mouth onto the floor. How long was he sucking on that? He reaches out to grab it, but Bucky is faster.  
“If you want it back, I’ll have to wash it first. It’s gross now.”  
Tony nods, feeling uncomfortable at how much he wants it back. Again, the urge to cry hits him hard and he has to hold it back. He tries to walk towards Bucky, but his legs wobble and he falls on his diapered butt. It doesn’t hurt, but the shock of the fall pushes him over the edge. It’s starts as a sniffle, but when Bucky returns, clean pacifier in hand, the tears freefall and he starts to cry again.  
Bucky panics and picks Tony up. Tony clutches his shirt and hides his face in Bucky’s shoulder as his body heaves with the sobs. Bucky gently encourages his head up and pushes the pacifier into his mouth.   
“Lord, this is weird,” Bucky says, his voice soothing. “Your panic is bringing the soldier out.”  
Tony can’t stop himself from crying, even though he knows that having the solider around won’t be helpful to the situation.  
Bucky bounces around, rubbing a hand up and down Tony’s back.   
“I know you can’t control it, I understand. You’ll probably be pretty embarrassed by the time your an adult again. I wonder how long it takes for something like this to be funny.”  
Tony furiously sucks on the pacifier and listens to Bucky talking. The tears are still flowing, but he can feel the edges of his baby emotions smoothing out.  
“I don’t think it will take long for you to turn back. I think the soldier kind of understood the process that Loki was trying to encourage. I think he knew that you needed time to prove yourself capable of doing things on your own. The team have made a strange habit out of underestimating you.”  
Tony’s breath hitches and he continues to suck the pacifier, but he pushes his face out of Bucky’s shoulder to look at him.  
Bucky gently brushes away a few stray tears and then cups his cheek.   
“There you are. You’re ok. You’re all good.”  
Bucky lays Tony down on the bed and rubs soft circles on his stomach while also reaching for the changing supplies. Tony scrunches up his face trough the process, too ashamed to look Bucky in the eyes. He doesn’t open them again until he feels the entire romper being taken off and himself being picked up.  
“What are you doing?” Tony can hear his own voice babbling around the pacifier, and he cringes at it.  
“I think we should have a bath. Get you all cleaned up for when Steve gets here.”  
Tony is lowered onto a towel on the floor as Bucky starts the bath going.  
“I don’t want a bath,” Tony complains as he uses the side of the bath to pull himself to his feet. “I’m not even dirty.”  
Bucky raises an eyebrow at him,  
and even though Tony suspects he can’t hear a word of his garbled nonsense, but the message obviously gets across. He shrugs, and continues to check the temperature of the water.  
Tony makes a break for freedom, but his legs give out within seconds of moving. He decides to go with it and crawls. He hears Bucky stand up and the heavy footfalls, but he manages to make it out of the bathroom completely, naked except for the diaper.  
“You think you can outrun me?” Bucky questions, a note of teasing in his voice. “Because I don’t think you can.”  
Tony giggles, and uses the bed covers to try and pull himself into standing position, but only succeeds in pulling the sheets on top of him. He’s still giggling when Bucky unveils him and brings him to the bath.  
It takes two hours for Steve et al to arrive, but unfortunately they were a little too late. All they found when they got to the motel was a bloody towel, a ripped child’s shirt and a note.

‘Cut off one head, three shall replace’


	14. No wonder they call you a genius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony reminds the world that yet again, he’s a genius and should never be underestimated.

Tony wakes up with a tired grumble. He is laying on his front, and the bed beneath him is soft and he has his hand closed right around something warm, and almost definitely metal. He doesn’t want to open his eyes, and his works his mouth, ready to yawn, but he finds something hitting his tongue. He gives it a tentative suck and that’s all it takes.  
Pushing himself up with his arms, Tony looks around him and the first thing he notices is that he’s gripping Buckys index like his life depends on it. The second thing he notices is that Buckys face is beaten up pretty badly. He had one puffy eye, but the bruises look a week old. A patch of dried blood is matting  
his hair and his shoulder has a singed hole and what is most definitely a healing bullet wound.  
Tony gasps and the pacifier falls from his mouth and onto the dirty mattress beneath him.   
“‘uck?” he says, his voice garbled with his underdeveloped vocal cords. “Uck, ‘ake up. Up!”  
Bucky doesn’t move, and Tony’s heart starts to race. What if he’s dead? What if he’s in a coma? Where are they?  
“Up!” Tony shouts, a hand hitting Buckys arm. “‘uck, Up!”  
Bucky still doesn’t move. Tony feels the panic fluttering in his chest and his breath hitching. He picks up the pacifier and shoves it into his mouth, knowing it can offer some of the comfort he needs. He crawls closer to Bucky and taps his cheek. Bucky still doesn’t move, so Tony slaps his face.  
Bucky jerks upwards, a fist flying toward Tony before he has the chance to scream. The fist freezes millimeters from Tony’s nose, and Bucky just stares at him, shock and realization dawning on his.  
Tony’s fear crawls into his throat, forcing a sob out around the pacifier. Buckys features crumble and he reaches out to pick Tony up. Tony flinches, but Bucky knows better than to see it as a deterrent. Tony is sobbing into his shoulder a second later, little hands fisting the fabric and tiny shoulders shaking.   
“I’m so sorry,” Bucky tells him, as he stands up and starts bouncing Tony. “I’m so sorry. I had a nightmare, and... and where are we?”  
Tony is still crying, but he lifts his head from Bucky’s shoulder to look around. Through his bleary eyes, he can just about see the four grey walls. There are no windows, only a door and a cot in the corner. The room smells stale and now that he’s paying attention, he notices that it’s kind of chilly. Unconsciously, he curls into Bucky.  
Bucky’s hand continues to rub up and down Tony’s back, and he walks around the room, bouncing and cooing at Tony. Tony doesn’t know how to feel, but when he slowly calms down, he guesses that maybe he should be grateful.  
“Let’s sit down for a minute,” Bucky says, wincing as he moves towards the bed.  
Tony’s stomach twists with guilt when he realises that Bucky is limping. Sure, the Super Soldier serum will heal him quicker than most, but he shouldn’t have had to walk around on it for Tony’s sake. He tries to say sorry, but it comes out as a garbled dribble of vowels. Bucky bounces him in his arms and shushes him. Tony is offended, and he doesn’t know how to get this across, so he kicks his legs out and whines.  
“You ok there, little man?” Bucky says, laying Tony down in his arms to get a better look. “God, I know you’ll hate me for saying this, but you look adorable when you pout.”  
Bucky laughs when Tony’s frown deepens, but his laugh is strained. Tony squirms in his arms, because he’ll be damned if Bucky is the only one who stresses out over this. It’s a team effort or it’s no effort.  
“Hey, stop that or I’ll end up dropping you.”  
“Dow’,” Tony demands, pointing a pudgy finger to the ground. “Uck, dow’.”  
“Tony, the floor is filthy. I can’t let you go crawling around in an inch of germs.”  
Tony shoots the man daggers, but he sees the look of stubborn defiance on Bucky’s face and knows that without his full vocabulary, he’s going to have a tough time convincing him.  
“’Elp,” Tony explains, pointing at himself. “’Scape.”  
Bucky’s face twists in confusion, but it smooths out in understanding a few seconds later.  
“Ok, how?”  
Tony is shocked by his willingness to let him help, but he doesn’t spare any time thinking about it. Tony points to the door and Bucky doesn’t need any more encouragement. He stands up, holding Tony on his forearm, his flesh arm holding him stable. He stops in front of the door, and Tony leans forward, his eyes close to the key hole. After a few minutes, Tony pulls back and his eyes rove around the room.  
“Whatever you need doing, just tell me,” Bucky says. “I’ll do what I can.”  
Tony nods and points at Bucky’s arm. Bucky, rather uncertainly, moves back towards the bed and sits Tony down and holds his arm out. Tony is unsteady, but he pulls himself up to his feet and holds Bucky’s arm for support. He moves his hand up and down, obviously looking for something. His hands stop on a panel near the bicep and he taps it.  
“Okay?” Tony lisps, looking up at Bucky earnestly.  
Bucky’s flesh hand moves to the panel, but Tony’s little hand grabs his thumb.  
“No!” he cries, starling Bucky. “’Uck, ok?”  
“You’re asking if it’s OK for you to use my arm?”  
Tony nods, his big brown eyes staring into Bucky’s own. Tony watches as Bucky’s face sails through a myriad of emotions before finally settling on a small frown.  
“I don’t know why I’m surprised that you’d be different, but no-one has ever asked before.”  
Tony’s eyes grow sad and sympathetic, and his pudgy hands grab at Bucky’s thumb. He squeezes tightly. Bucky smiles shakily and pulls the panel off of his arm. Tony hesitates before diving in and carefully searching for something. Bucky waits for the pain, but it never comes.  
“’uck,” Tony says.  
Bucky looks down and finds that Tony has his hands into side arm still. He’s tugging on something that won’t come loose. He’s pouting, and Bucky takes pity. He follows Tony’s hand until her finds what he’s trying to pull. He gives Tony a questioning look, reluctant to just rip any random thing from his arm.  
“’emp’ur,” Tony says.  
Bucky shakes his head, showing that he doesn’t understand.  
“’Uck, ‘emp’ur!” Tony says, more forcefully this time.  
Bucky doesn’t understand Tony and Tony is starting to grow impatient.  
“’Emp’ur!” He cries out.  
“Tony, I don’t understand,” Bucky says. “But… leap of faith, Ok?”  
Tony seems more upset about this, and Bucky just yanks it out. His arm doesn’t feel any different. He smiles at Tony, but it falls when big tears start to fall down Tony’s face.  
“What’s wrong?”  
Tony shakes his head and sits down heavily, clutching a tiny pipe to his chest like one would with a toy.  
“Are you hurt?” Bucky asks, panicking.  
Tony shakes his head and looks up at Bucky with his bottom lip wobbling dangerously.  
“Tony, I don’t know how to help!” Bucky says, desperately.  
Tony holds his arms out and flexes his fingers. Even Bucky, who hasn’t been around children for seventy years, knows what Tony is asking. He picks him up and holds him close to his chest, rubbing a hand up and down his back. He can feel the small, fragile body shaking in her arms.  
“’Uck k now,” Tony whispers through his tears.  
Bucky feels a lump rise in his throat, and it hurts to hear that. Hurts to know that Tony is torn up over Bucky’s past.  
“Yeah, Bucky is OK now,” Bucky whispers. “I’ve got you.”  
Tony nods into his shoulder, pacifier bobbing furiously in his mouth. Tony points towards the door and Bucky stands up and arranged Tony so that he’s facing outwards. Tony’s eyes are still leaking, but his brows are furrowed in concentration.  
Using the small metal sticks he commandeered from Bucky’s arm, Tony starts trying to pick the lock. Bucky wants to help, but with his emotional state being so rocky, Tony probably won’t respond to it well. It takes a while, but oddly, it seems to calm Tony down rather than frustrate him further. Eventually, it clicks open and Tony beams up at Bucky, pride and excitement in his eyes.  
Bucky makes a rather snap decision when his stomach turns at the idea of walking out there with Tony in his arms. He can’t let any harm come to him, especially not when he’s so small and physically defenceless. Bucky will never assume that he’s ever going to lose the ability to think himself out of a situation, but he can hardly be expected to take on anyone in a fight. He knows Tony won’t appreciate it, but precautions need to be taken.  
He walks back to the bed, ignoring the way Tony whines and squirms in confusion by the sudden change of course. He pulls the blanket towards him and starts to fashion something similar to a sling out of it. Tony frowns at it from his place near the headboard. His face in scrunched up as he tries to figure out what it’s for, but when he realises, he tries to roll away and climb from the bed.  
“I know you won’t like it, but I need my hands free in case we come up against any enemies. You’re not going to be able to do any damage like this.”  
Tony shakes his head as Bucky wraps a hand around his waist and lifts him up. Tony squirms harder now, pointing at himself.  
“I ‘elp!” he cries out, slapping at Bucky’s hands.  
Bucky’s mouth drops open and he’s sure he’s conveying his horror at the idea of Tony doing anything that could involve him getting hurt. He needs Tony to be well out of the way. Tony, recognising that he’s not going to get his way, tries to break free from Bucky’s grasp again, but Bucky’s hold is too strong.  
He lays Tony down on one of the corners of the blanket, holding his stomach down so that he can’t roll away. He then starts the wrap the spare fabric around him, until he’s swathed from head to toe. He uses the longer edges to tie the blanket to his chest, keeping Tony’s head near his heart beat. He’s not sure why, but he’s certain it will help keep him calm for a while. Tony looks furious and he tries to wriggle free, but he can’t move. Confident that he’ll be able to keep them both safe, Bucky yanks the door open and steps into the cold grey hallway. No guards. They’re either stupid or confident that a man and a baby wouldn’t be able to break out. Either way, Bucky’s estimation of them drops ten-fold.  
Tony’s eyes grow wide and are moving around, taking in whatever, he can see from his limited view from within the blanket. Bucky, not wanting to tempt fate, starts to run hard and fast.  
The hallway seems to go on forever, and Bucky doesn’t stop running. He keeps looking down to make sure Tony isn’t being jostled too much. Despite looking angry, Tony is still and slowly sucking on his pacifier. Bucky tries not to coo at him, but he does look adorable, little scowl in place.  
“The asset is free!”  
Bucky startles at the voice and looks ahead where two guards have appeared in typical Hydra apparel. They’re both staring at Bucky, eyes wide with fear, and their guns raised in unsteady hands. Bucky’s heart stutters, but he doesn’t slow down. He barrels forward. When the guns go off, he runs up the side of the wall to dodge them, and flips over their heads, landing behind them in a crouch, metal hand on the floor, and his flesh one holding Tony closer to his chest.  
The two men startle and turn around, but Bucky strikes out with his metal arm, knocking them to the ground in an instant. Tony giggles, and Bucky looks down to see the smile partially hidden behind the guard of the pacifier. Bucky keeps running, and the more guards he takes down, the more Tony giggles. It’s as though he’s being tickled and the strange juxtaposition between innocence and some sadistic humour jars Bucky, forcing him to run father.  
They’re playing this game of running and fighting at intervals for almost half-an-hour. Bucky isn’t running out of steam. He won’t for a while. His body is conditioned to last hours in such combat, but he’s certain his luck will run out sooner rather than later. They need to find an exit.  
Tony is whining again, and Bucky slips into a room at the side.  
“What’s wrong.”  
Tony spits the pacifier out, and Bucky catches it before it falls on the floor. He doesn’t have enough time to find somewhere to wash it, and he knows that Tony won’t be anywhere near as calm without it.  
“Ta’ pon,” Tony says, garbled by his untrained tongue. “Call ‘tif.”  
Bucky can only understand the word ‘call’, but from that he can piece together what he’s trying to say.  
“No wonder they call you a genius,” Bucky says, clucking Tony under the chin and giving him his pacifier back. “Let’s find a phone and call the cavalry.”  
 


	15. I come bearing gifts and news

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe not the greatest thing for Tony, but could be the greatest thing for the team.

Steve, Clint and Natasha are running side-by-side from the quinjet towards the burning hydra base. Steve’s heart positively aches with the panic that Bucky and Tony didn’t make it out. They’d seen the explosion as they were nearing.  
“Don’t look so worried, Captain,” Cling calls, as they run. “Tony and Bucky are practically experts at walking away from exploding buildings. They’re very cinematic like that.”  
Steve doesn’t reply, but his eyes dark left and right as he tries to search them out. His heart lurches when he sees a dark figure coming out of the smoke.   
“Toldja,” Clint sings, as he veers towards the figure.  
“But… where’s Tony?”  
They all slow down cautiously. Bucky continues to run towards them, one arm against his chest and the other swinging purposefully at his side. Maybe he has an injury, Steve thinks. Been shot in the chest. They keep searching for Tony, but it’s not until Bucky is directly in front of them that they realise what has happened.  
“No fucking way,” Clint whispers, staring down at the sleeping baby. “Holy shit, he’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”  
“Shh,” Bucky urges, looking down at Tony with a warm smile.  
Steve is feeling decidedly sick at seeing Stark so vulnerable, but he holds onto his lunch for the time being. They need to get Bucky and Tony to safety first. Bucky doesn’t look like he’ll be relinquishing hold of Tony any time soon, so Steve settles for herding them towards the quinjet.  
Natasha and Clint break away, likely to search for survivors and usable intel. Bucky steps over the Jets threshold, his hair wild, his skin darkened with smoke, but he seems calm. Calmer than Steve has ever seen him. Somehow, he knows that it’s because of Stark.  
“Are you ok?” Steve asks.  
“Shh,” Bucky hisses, rubbing a gentle hand over the blankets when Tony starts the stir.  
Tony settles back down into sleep, and Steve’s eyes travel over the pair. He notes the obvious signs of violence, but he decides not to comment on it. Bucky has healed from them all. Steve knows he’s suffered worse.  
Natasha and Clint return a little later and the quinjet is up and flying home before long. Tony sleeps for almost the entire ride, but when they’re ten minutes out, he begins to stir again.  
“Steve watches in amazement as Tony sucks on the pacifier sluggishly, and his eyes blink open slowly. He looks around the room, before settling his gaze on Bucky and smiling.  
“You finally woke up,” Bucky teases.  
“Out,” Tony demands, squirming in the blankets.  
Bucky chuckles and slowly starts to unravel the blanket. The moment he is free, Tony stretches out like a kitten and makes the tiniest squeak.  
“Ca’ly arri’?” he says, looking at the team.  
“Yeah, the cavalry arrived.”  
Tony hums happily and curls into Bucky’s body, waiting for the excess sleep to dissipate.  
“Jarvis?” Bucky asks, looking at the ceiling. “Can you order a crib, some diapers and bottles, please?”  
“No crib,” Tony says, as he begins to push away from Bucky. “No bols.”  
Tony climbs away from Bucky and onto the seats. Bucky lets him roam free. Steve is on stand-by, ready to grab Tony is he were to fall. Tony seems content with crawling from seat to seat, muttering ‘no’ under his breath.  
Steve wonders how far Tony’s mind has regressed, because he certainly isn’t acting the way he imagined Tony Stark would. Then again, how well does he really know the man? Ex-man. Certainly not enough to make judgements about what has changed. He’s certain Tony wasn’t this adorable.  
“No, no, no,” Tony sings to himself as he pulls himself up using a belt buckle. “No crib. No bols.”  
“You know you’ll fall out of bed if you’re not in a crib,” Bucky says patiently.   
“No crib!” Tony shouts, though he’s spotted Clint and Natasha and isn’t even looking at Bucky.  
“Buckle up,” Natasha says, when she spots Tony reaching for the buttons. “Commence landing sequence in T-minus two minutes.”  
It’s because he’s not paying attention that he squeals in shock when Bucky grabs him from behind. This causes the pacifier to fall onto the floor. And then he falls silent, and Bucky grows still. Steve has to tug them down into the seats as the quinjet gets a little shaky. Bucky seats Tony on his lap and straps himself in.  
Bucky looks like he’s waiting for the world to fall apart and Tony looks lost. His eyes are on the pacifier, and his mouth is opening and closing. His bottom lip begins to tremble as his eyes fill with tears. In Steve’s head, he starts a countdown for when Tony starts crying.  
Thankfully, they land on top of Stark Tower almost to the second that the first sob breaks free. Tony’s hand reaches towards the pacifier which has rolled around on the floor and is now covered in dust and dirt.  
“Sorry, Tony, but we need to clean it first,” Bucky says apologetically as he picks it up and puts it in his back pocket.  
Tony lets out an anguished cry and Bucky flinches from the sound. Clint and Natasha disembark the quinjet but Steve stays. He needs to make sure Tony’s tantrum doesn’t trigger the winter soldier. That could be problematic.  
Bucky, however, does not seem to be fazed. In fact, he looks sympathetic to Tony’s pain. He simply hands over the sobbing child to Steve, in a move almost reminiscent of The Lion King.  
Steve takes Tony into his arms, holding him gently and letting him cry into his shoulder. Tony grabs his shirt like his life depends on it.  
“I’ll bring you a clean pacifier quickly,” Bucky promises. “But he’ll be wanting his space for a while. I need to put the crib together, anyway.”  
“No crib!” Tony sobs, still hidden in Steve’s shoulder.  
Steve, for the most part, stands stock still, stunned. How his brainwashed best bud would end up caring about a jaded billionaire genius turned baby is a mystery. How he thinks Steve is a good call to look after said baby is just stupidity.  
Steve is not the caring type. Small humans freak him out. Baby’s are hard to understand, and emotionally unpredictable, and Steve can’t ask a baby to articulate their needs. It’s all guess work and praying that something he does is right.  
“You’ll be fine, Stevie,” Bucky tells him. “I’ll be back in a minute. Just go sit in the lounge.”  
Steve does as he’s told, because with the baby crying in his ear, he’s not sure he’s capable of making a decision on his own. He follows Bucky out of the quinjet and heads into the building. He takes Tony down into the lounge and settles them both down into the couch cushions. He rubs a hand up and down Tony’s back, waiting for him to calm down while fearing that he may never.   
Bucky returns five minutes later with a pacifier and a diaper bag. Steve hadn’t really considered that Tony may be too small to be able to control such basic human needs. Bucky presses the pacifier to Tony’s lips, and Tony takes it without a fight. He sucks on it furiously, and Steve almost melts at the snuffle sounds he’s making as he attempts to self-soothe.  
“He’ll need a change. Lather the cream on, wouldja? It’s been a few hours. Want to stave off a rash if we can help it.”  
And then Bucky leaves, and Steve stares down at the diaper back in horror. He hasn’t changed a diaper, ever. That was all on Bucky. Bucky was the one with younger siblings. Bucky was the one who could care for small children. Steve was useless. But he had to do something. If he knows anything, it’s that rashes are painful and uncomfortable. They weeks he spent in bed when he was sick left him with some horrific rashes that would up his discomfort by a considerable amount.  
Steve opens the diaper bag and pulls out a foldable changing mat. With Tony in one arm, he starts to lay out everything he could need, each other causing a sinking feeling in his stomach. He was really about to change his team mates diaper. Could this day get any more bizarre?  
Tony whimpers as he’s lain on the mat, his eyes looking at Steve with fear and trepidation.  
“Sorry, Tones, but this needs to be done.”  
Tony doesn’t try to roll away, doesn’t move more than his mouth as he works at his only form of comfort.  
Steve unsnaps the romper he is wearing, and decides to just pull the whole thing off, because it’s filthy. Underneath, Tony is just wearing a diaper, and the parts of his body that weren’t covered are darkened in comparison. He takes a baby wipe and starts to clean him off, leaving his face until the end. As he starts to wipe down Tony’s face, the boy begins to squirm uncomfortably.  
“Where’s Tony?” Steve asks, with a high-pitched voice as the wipe almost completely covers his face. “Where’s the baby?”   
Tony watches Steve in confusion, but his eyes are slowly lighting up, so Steve knows he’s doing something right.  
“I wonder,” Steve says, staring at the ceiling in mock consideration. “If babies are ticklish?”  
Tony tries to roll over almost straight away, but Steve dances his fingers over Tony’s sides, making the boy shriek with laughter and try to wriggle away. Steve falls in love with the sound of his laughter straight away.  
“Stop!” Tony begs, giggling furiously, trying to bat Steve’s hands away. “No! No!”  
Steve laughs along with him, but finally relents. He gives himself a minute to prepare and Tony is gasping for breath with a wide smile. Steve quickly untaps the diaper and pulls it away, putting it to the side. Steve then quickly wipes away at the area, careful not to hurt him where splotches of red are appearing. He then rubs rash cream in, and sprinkles powder. He then unfolds another diaper and stares at in. He has to twist it around a few times before he figures out where the front in. He lifts Tony’s legs up and slides the diaper under him and tapes him up.  
Tony is watching entire thing, the remnants of his smile still there, but he looks shy. Steve smiles at him, and quickly cleans his hands off and disposes of the trash. Tony uses that time to make his great escape. He rolls onto his stomach and begins to crawl away. Steve watches in amusement as Tony wonders away.  
“Hey,” Clint says, coming into the room with a large box. “I have news and gifts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm doing Camp NaNoWriMo and alongside my usual project, I've taken on a project for a competition and I'm co-writing a story with my friends, which mean I'm busier than I would normally be. Forgive the atrocious time in between chapters.  
> Also, if you spot mistakes, let me know. I intend to do a big sweep at the end to fix all discrepancys. And then I'll start uploading a pre-written fic of the same fandom, but with a completely different twist.
> 
> Anyway, thank for reading and all that jazz.


	16. He kicked me in the eye!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is having a tough time coming to terms with the news, and Tony isn't a happy bunny. Clint is trying to resolve all their issues, because maybe they can build a family.

Tony sits down on his freshly diapered butt and watches as Clint opens the box and pulls out a foldable play pen. Steve helps him to erect it, and they push down a thin mattress to the bottom. Tony’s eyes narrow as he stares at it, and then he turns to Steve, looking offended. Steve chuckles and moves over to pick him up.  
“Don’t you like your new gift?” Steve asks, looking shocked.  
Tony shakes his head, glaring between the two men and the pen.  
“How do you know if you haven’t tried it?”  
Tony’s response is immediate. He grips onto Steve’s shirt so that he can’t be put down and Steve chuckles.   
“Ok, no play pen for now.”  
The for now earns him a mild kick in the stomach, but Steve pays it no attention. He doesn’t really even feel it. Instead, he signals for Clint to pass on his news, moving to sit at the island in the kitchen.   
“So, Thor has spoken to his mother, who identified the magic as being of Asgardian origin, but the source is unknown.”  
Steve nods. He’d suspected as much. Actually, he was more specific in his predictions. He believes that it’s Loki but doesn’t want to say. He knows Clint had a hard time getting over the mind control, and that Tony probably doesn’t have the best feelings relating to the man, since it was his portal that stole Tony from his own life for three years.  
“Frigga says that she can do nothing to reverse the effects, only stop them from progressing and offer an aging charm.”  
“That’s good news,” Steve says, elated. “He’ll be a grown man again, right?”  
“Yeah, but not any time soon. She says it’ll take affect in a week, and every day will equal a month.”  
“So, we’re waiting, what…” Steve tries to do the math in his head. “What’s forty times twelve?”  
Tony taps him on the face and holds up his fingers. Four. Eight. Zero.  
“Four hundred and eighty?” he asks.   
Tony nods, looking worried.  
“That’s more than a year.”  
“Well, here’s the kicker,” Clint says. “The charm will wear off in one hundred and eighty. She says it will cause irreparable damage if it lasts longer. Asgardian magic does not agree with ‘mortal’s vulnerable bodies’.”  
“But then he’d be… Jesus. He’d be seventeen?”   
“I’m afraid so. After that, he’d need to age normally.”  
Steve looks positively terrified on the idea, but nothing compares to the horror on Tony’s face.   
“No!” he cries. “No, no, no.”  
“Sorry, Tony, but we’re kind of limited in what we can do about it,” Clint says. “We’ll be here for you though. Well, as much as we can.”  
“What does that mean?” Steve asks, unconsciously tightening his grip on Tony.  
“Well, we’re still the avengers. The safety of our country depends on us. We… Fury says we should consider bringing in help.”  
Steve balks at the idea, and Tony is shaking his head. Bring in help? How do they bring in help for something like this? Tony is a child. He’s a baby who will be growing at a ridiculous rate. How do that explain that?  
“He’s sending a SHIELD sanctioned nurse. She’ll take over his primary care, meaning that whenever we’re sent on a mission, he’s not alone.”  
Tony buries his face in Steve’s neck and whines. Steve wishes he could do something to the same affect. It seems like a terrible idea, but also, it makes sense. Clint is right. They are still the avengers. They do still need to save the world. There’s no walking away from the responsibility.   
Steve does the only thing he can think of. He stands up and starts pacing the room, bouncing Tony in his arms and rubbing his back. He doubts he can get him to fall asleep so soon after he’s napped, but hopefully he can get him to calm down.  
Clint watches them both, looking sympathetic, but almost useless. He jumps up and says nothing as he runs from the room. Steve, assuming it’s a weird Clint quirk, leaves him to it. He continues to calm Tony down. Twenty minutes later, Bucky returns and, in his hand, his has a bottle of milk, which he is shaking vigorously, and a blanket. He sets the blanket on the floor in front of the TV and then signals for Steve to sit on the sofa.  
“No bols!” Tony cries when he looks up at the change. “No!”  
“Sorry Tony, but you need to eat something, and you don’t have all your teeth yet.”  
Tony pouts as he’s lain across Steve’s lap. Bucky helps him to arrange Tony so that his head is pillowed on the crook of his arm. He passes the bottle over and guides his hand so that the nipple of the bottle goes into Tony’s mouth, though there is resistance. It’s not until Tony tries to say ‘no bols’ again that Bucky takes the opportunity to push it in. He gives the bottle a squeeze, forcing milk into Tony’s mouth and thus beginning the feeding.   
Bucky looks like he feels bad about it, much like Steve definitely does, but he can understand why it’s important for Tony to take in sustenance. He’s aware of Tony’s ability to forget about his most basic needs, spending hours in his lab without sleep or food. His new body simply won’t stand for that. And it falls to Steve, Bucky and the other avengers to take care of him until the nurse arrives.  
Tony looks angry, but he sucks at the bottle anyway. As the bottle empties, Tony seems to calm down. Clint returns to the room with a box in his arms. Tony is too caught up in drinking and looking up at Steve to pay any attention. Steve is too enraptured with this baby in his arms to want to look away. Bucky is the only one who pays Clint any attention.  
“Whatcha got there?”  
Clint grins and pries the lid from the box. He tips the box onto the floor, allowing stuffed toys, soft blocks, picture books and various child appropriate toys to fall out. Bucky’s eyes widen as he takes it all in, impressed that Clint thought about it.  
“Don’t know if he’s going to be too, I dunno, adult to play with these, but from the way he’s been acting, I’d wager not,” Clint whispers, as he picks up a small brown furry teddy.   
He walks over to Tony and gently presses it to his chest. Tony latches on, both arms wrapping around it’s waist. He hums happily as the bottle comes to an end. Steve watches as he cuddles closely with the toy, and notes Clint’s proud expression.  
“You need to burp him,” Bucky says. “Put him against your chest and pat his back.”  
Bucky lays a small towel on Steve’s shoulder and Steve does as he’s instructed. It doesn’t take long for Tony to let out a belch of air, that makes Clint laugh. Tony barely seems to have the thought capacity to care. He just tries to show Steve and Bucky the teddy, and then tries to chew on it’s foot. Bucky is quick to give him his pacifier back.  
“Set him on the blanket. I’ll go find some clothes for him.”  
With that, Bucky gets up and leaves. Steve lays Tony on the blanket, stomach down. Tony looks around at all the things and reaches out with one hand to touch them all, while his other hand holds the leg of the teddy.  
~

Clint sits back and watches Tony play. His heart aches for his family, and he’s not sure what this regression will mean for the court-sanctioned guardianship. He’s never had to deal with a baby on his own. Laura was always there. The guilt he feels about bringing a nanny in is threatening to wash out everything. He wants Tony to be as comfortable as possible for the next few weeks, and if he could have his way, he would certainly has just snatched Tony up and taken him to his home on the farm. But he can’t. Tony needs to be here, and he needs to keep his family and his team as separate as possible.  
Tony looks happy enough. He’s obviously managed to put all of his worries into the back of his mind and is cheerfully building a tower with the blocks. He’s not the same as he was before the regression started to go into over-drive, and Clint can’t help but worry that it’ll be permanent. How will Rhodey and Pepper fare when they learn that they’ll never get Tony back? Not the way he was before. Clint knows that if it was Natasha, he’d be heart-broken. But he’d never leave her side.  
He doubts that Rhodey or Pepper would leave Tony. They’re both fiercely loyal and protective. Despite the fact that Tony is a grown man with super-hero status, they still treat him like he’s a fragile child. In a lot of ways, Tony can be exactly that. Won’t eat properly, doesn’t like bedtime, like’s to play with his toys.   
The more Clint thinks about it, the more he realises that this may just give Rhodey and Pepper the chance to care for him the way they want to. Maybe even allow them the opportunity to drain him of all his bad habits and slowly re-fill him with healthy coping mechanisms and behaviours. They’re almost an hour into watching Tony play when he decided that he needs to be pro-active.  
“I’ve got some calls to make, Steve,” Clint says, standing up. “I’ll be back in a minute.”  
Clint leaves the room, going into the bedroom where he’d been sleeping when Tony was in the room next door. He can hear Bucky in the room building the crib and muttering something about ‘Damn Ikea Furniture is like a puzzle’. Clint shakes his head smiling and pulls out his phone.  
“Colonel James Rhodes speaking.”  
Clint throws himself into an in-depth explanation of everything that has happened in the last day and half, and by the time Clint is hanging up the phone, he has a promise that both her and Pepper will come and visit for a short time.   
Clint returns to the front room to share the news, only to find Tony in the play-pen, crying, while Steve watches with a fearful expression.  
“What happened?” Clint asks, moving towards the side of the play-pen.  
Tony looks up at him, big eyes leaking tears and his pacifier bobbing furiously. He holds his arms out and Clint leans in to pick him up. Call him a sap, but he can’t stand to leave a child looking so sad.  
“He needs his diaper changed, and when I tried, he kicked me in the eye. He’s in time-out.”  
Tony looks so damn sad that Clint can’t bare to put him back. Instead, he carries Tony over to the diaper bag. With one hand holding Tony to him, he lays everything out. Tony whines, but doesn’t start throwing limbs around. Steve watches with amazement as Clint calms Tony down, and slowly changes his diaper without any problems. Tony is still sniffling his sadness when it’s over, and Clint re-dresses him.  
“It’s ok baby. Uncle Clint is here. Mr. Mean Serum Machine won’t put you in the icky play-pen on my watch.”  
Tony giggles weakly and Steve huffs in annoyance. Clint winks at him and then he carries Tony back to his blanket. Together, they play for hours until Bucky returns, red in the face, but ultimately looking very proud of himself.  
“I built the crib,” he tells the room. “It took me a lifetime, but I built it.”  
Steve claps him on the shoulder in congratulations, and then fills Bucky in on the few hours that he missed on Tony time. Bucky is watching Tony fondly the entire time, and it’s safe to say that by the end of the day, each and every avenger will be enamoured with the baby version of their teammate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are welcome here. ;)


	17. He's so small.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a fluff piece really. Tony settling into having a family and Bucky being a mother hen.

Bucky is getting tired, and he can see how even Tony is flagging, despite his abject denial. Bucky sets up the high chair while Steve cooks dinner and Clint watches over Tony (Read: Plays some ridiculous game that involved building a tower and making a teddy destroy it. It has Tony in fits of giggles).   
It feels oddly domestic, and Bucky feels whatever remnants of the winter soldier that was there disappear. He pulls out a bib from the box of stuff he’d had Jarvis order, and sets it on the table. He then rinses out the baby bottle and fills it with apple juice. Afterwards, he sets the table for everyone in the tower. It feels nice. Calming. He can see the way it’s affecting everyone else, too, as Bruce and Natasha come into the kitchen.  
Normally, after mission that tense, they are all reserved and wound up. They wouldn’t eat together, and if they did, it would be done in silence. Now, they’re all chatting amicably. When Clint brings Tony into the kitchen area, there’s a little fuss with Tony refuses to sit in the high-chair. It’s quickly resolved my Natasha, who picks up the teddy bear from the blanket and sits it in the chair next to Tony.   
Tony’s tantrum halts almost immediately. Bucky wraps the bib around his throat and starts to spoon feed him vegetables and small pieces of cooked chicken. It’s nice. It’s family. Bucky smiles when Tony looks up at him, mouth open like a baby bird. He puts another mouthful in and Tony hums in appreciation.   
Bruce watches the exchange with a fond smile, and even Natasha’s eye gleam with adoration. Clint is making jokes about how much easier Tony is to handle at this size than he was when he was twelve, and instead of the argument they expected to come from it, Tony simply grabs a handful of food, with the clear intention of throwing it.  
It’s only Bucky’s intervention that stops it. He grabs Tony’s tiny fist and empties it out into a waiting napkin. Natasha slaps Clint’s arm, causing him to grumble, and making Tony laugh. Steve shakes his head, smiling.   
Yeah, this is family. It’s been so long since he felt like he had one of those.  
~  
Tony wants to complain about the stupid high-chair. He doesn’t appreciate being confined to anything, but when Natasha hands him the teddy bear, he almost forgets about it. He doesn’t want the teddy to get hurt because he’s fighting the straps. And then Bucky starts to feed him food, meaning he doesn’t have to let go of the teddy, so he’s ok with letting that happen.  
When Clint makes a joke about him, Tony is only half listening, but he knows it can’t have been anything particularly flattering. He wants to throw food at him, remind him that Tony is still a force to be reckoned with, but Bucky puts a stop to it right away. Thankfully, Natasha has his back and she enacts revenge on his behalf.  
When dinner is over, Tony fully expects Bucky to return him to the blanket so that he and Clint can keep playing their awesome game. However, he knows that’s not the case when Bucky takes him into the room he was using before the Winter Soldier came out to play. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to realise that the entire room has been changed.  
By the window, where the bed was before, now stands a solid oak crib with an avenger’s mobile hanging over it. Tucked into the corner, by the door is a tall changing table, with several packages of diapers in it, along with wipes and many folded items of clothing and blankets. There’s even a thin bookshelf filled with children’s books. If Tony didn’t have the pacifier in his mouth, he would have explained that he could still read ‘War and Peace’ if he wanted to.  
When he’s lain on the changing table, he turns his head to scout the rest of the room. Next to the bookshelf is a rocking chair made of the same wood that the crib is made from. There’s a small end table next to it, with a bottle warmer atop and a bottle of milk that Bucky had put there earlier.  
Bucky did not do this room by halves, and he should be grateful that the team are taking so much care of him, but he has a nursery. That makes him burn with embarrassment. And instead of the angry stream of words that he wants to shout when Bucky takes off his onesie, instead he is met with a sob.  
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Bucky asks, as he untapes the diaper. “Tony, why’re you crying?”  
Tony shakes his head, unable to talk. He sucks the pacifier furiously and tries to bat Bucky’s hands away. Unfortunately, it does nothing to deter him. Bucky wipes him down but doesn’t replace the diaper. Instead, he carries Tony into the bathroom.  
“None of those tears, little man. Come on, lets get cleaned up and then ready for bed.”  
Tony whines, but Bucky places him in a little chair in the bath, one which supports his back and head and has little straps that hold him in place. Bucky lathers up a soft sponge and starts to slowly clean Tony with it. Tony doesn’t stop crying, but when Bucky hands him a rubber duck, he does grip it with all of his limited strength.  
“There, there, Tones. You just play with the duck, and I’ll make you a fresh little baby, Ok?”  
Tony can’t speak, so he lets it happen. It’s not like he has a choice. He’s in no position to stop anything. When Bucky is finished, he’s fished from the bath and wrapped in a thick fluffy towel. Tony grabs a handful and it feels good in his hands. He finds the softness calming.  
Bucky quickly sprinkles powder on him and wraps him in another diaper. He then pulls out a Hulk onesie and dresses him. Then, he’s headed Teddy again, and he holds it close to his chest. Bucky takes him over the rocking chair. The pacifier is stolen from him and he wants to scream, but before he’s caught his breath, another one is put in his mouth. He sucks, and this time milk comes out. He looks up, and his eyes meet Bucky’s.  
Bucky looks so calm. It spreads over Tony and he keeps drinking. Bucky starts rocking the chair, and soon, he’s falling asleep. It’s nice to be looked after. Before the team, he had Rhodey and Pepper to rely on. They did their best, but between running his company and their work with the military, they didn’t have time to deal with Tony’s self-destructive nature.  
Speaking of Rhodey and Pepper, he’s sure he can hear them in the other room, but his eyes are closing against his will. He keeps going at the bottle, but soon he’s fast asleep and dreaming about being with his new family.  
~  
Bucky comes back into the lounge half-an-hour later, without Tony.  
“He’s sleeping. Jarvis, would you mind putting the image of Tony on the TV?”  
Wordlessly, the television turns on, and they all watch Tony in his crib, a little smile playing at his lips behind the pacifier. He’s cuddling the teddy and has one fist gripping the blanket he’s covered in. The mobile above his head is spinning, emitting a faint green light and playing a soft tinkling lullaby.  
Clint notes with a smile how soft Rhodey and Pepper’s faces become when they see Tony.  
“God, he’s so small,” Rhodey whispers.  
“And so adorable,” Pepper adds.   
They all stand in silence for a while, just watching Tony’s chest rise and fall. Sometimes he gives the pacifier a small suck, but he stays fast asleep.  
“We should probably talk about his care from here on out, and how things are going to happen,” Clint says. “We’ve got a partial cure.”  
“Partial?” Pepper asks, sceptically.  
Clint is about to answer, but a clap of thunder and a loud flash of lightening shakes the building. They all instinctively turn to the TV and watch as Tony’s face scrunches up and his mouth opens.  
“I’ll go see to him,” Rhodey offers.  
“I’m coming with,” Pepper volunteers.  
The two scamper into the room and Clint rolls his eyes as the elevator opens to reveal Thor, in all his armoured glory. He’s grinning widely and walks steadily up the occupants in the room. Clint, being the closest, is the first to be wrapped in a bone crushing hug. In the background, the can hear Tony’s quiet cries and the soft reassurances from Pepper and Rhodey.  
“Friends!” Thor booms.  
He’s immediately met with a collective ‘shh’ and Thor grins sheepishly.  
“I woke the youngling, didn’t I?”  
Clint, still in Thor’s arms, jabs a thumb towards the television. Thor lets go and turns to look. Rhodey has Tony in his arms and Pepper at his side. They’re both whispering to Tony as he slowly calms down. Pepper fetches the pacifier and teddy from the crib and slowly gives them back to Tony. It’s enough to placate them.  
“Thor has come to visit,” Rhodey whispers, with a smile. “No need to worry.”  
Tony nods a little, and when Pepper rubs a thumb down his cheek, wiping away the tears, Tony latches on and doesn’t look like he intends to let go any time soon. Pepper swells with pride and smiles warmly down at him. She looks then at Rhodey, who is wearing an identical expression.  
“He is very cute,” Thor observes. “Maybe I should go say hello?”  
Clint knows he’s not strong enough to over power him, but he grabs Thor’s arm anyway.  
“I think maybe ‘hello’ should wait until the morning. Look, he’s falling back asleep.”  
And he is. With Peppers hand still in his grip. Rhodey bounces slightly, helping ease Tony back into dreamland. It looks like they’re the loving parents and Tony is their child. Clint knows that it’s something Tony never got to experience before. His heart hurts that it took this happening for Tony to be able to experience the childhood he deserves.  
They watch as Tony is placed back in the crib and covered with the blanket. Rhodey and Pepper return to the lounge, both looking blissed out.  
“Ok, so, you said there were a cure?” Rhodey asks.  
Clint is happy that Thor is there suddenly. It will make explaining so much easier. He doesn’t understand magic enough to do it justice, and he has several ounces of mistrust towards Asgardian magic. He’d rather not talk about it in depth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and kudos.


	18. I know that look, no matter what face you wear it on.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're coming super close to the end, so the next few chapters will be fairly long in comparison to the others. Just need to tie up some lose ends and then I can put this fic behind me. And then start another Tony-centric fic. because I clearly have a problem. One which I have no intention of resolving.

Thor explains the gift that his mother has given to Tony. He can see how tense Clint is getting at the mere mention of magic, so he keeps it as succinct as possible, without leaving out any of the vital details.  
He understands why Clint feels this way. He hates that it makes sense. He hates that Loki did this. He wishes beyond most that Loki would stop his hatred, wishes he would see what he was doing and realise that he was made for better. He can do better. He tells Loki this often, but he’s not listening. Refuses to see reason. Refuses to acknowledge the good within himself. Thor won’t give up on him, though. Blood or not, they’re brothers. They shared a childhood, a family, a life. He won’t give up.  
“So, he’ll continue to age normally when her spell has run its course?” Pepper asks, her eyes fixed on the television.  
“Yes, that’s when her magic will finish, and nature will come into play.”  
Rhodey nods, but he looks troubled.  
“Who will look after him?” he asks. “I can get extended leave to help, but I’m not exactly parent material and he deserves better.”  
“Well, legally, I’m still his legal guardian, but SHEILD will be sending in a nurse to help until he’s old enough to not need one,” Clint explains.  
“You do realize that Tony would still need a nanny until he’s forty, right?” Pepper says, eyebrows raised.  
“I think SHEILD will retract when he’s in his mid-teens,” Clint says.   
“And what of Iron Man and his place on the avengers?” Rhodey asks.  
“That’s something he can decide up on when he’s old enough,” Steve says. “He’ll be a valuable member of this team regardless, but we can’t let a child on the field.”  
“Agreed,” Clint says.  
Rhodey looks conflicted for a second, and then he stands up.  
“Captain Rodgers, would you mind stepping out for a word?”  
Steve looks confused, but he stands up and follows Rhodey out of the lounge. Thor is curious to hear what is being said, but he doesn’t follow. Instead, he sits back and watches Tony sleep on the television.  
He didn’t know Tony before this. Not really. They fought each other and then side-by-side, but they didn’t spend much time together. However, he can’t help but see how alike he is to Loki. Both had troubled childhoods, which marred their adulthoods. Both saw little worth in themselves.  
The main difference is that Odin loves Loki, has always loved Loki and in no point of the future will he stop, and yet Loki became an intergalactic criminal. From what he understands of Tony’s purposefully elusive past, his own father did not extend the same to his son. Tony was without the love of the man he respected the most as a child, and yet he became a hero to the people. He created ease and built homes and worked to better the world. They both had options for which direction they could take their lives, and one chose darkness and the other built the sun.  
Maybe the trickery inflicted upon Anthony will be beneficial in the end. Help him to heal from old wounds, from a lifetime of hurt and teach him that he’s loved. Teach him that it’s ok to be loved. That love isn’t bought. You don’t need to build and give for someone to love you. Hopefully. Hopefully they can teach Tony to be loved.  
~  
Tony wakes up from a dream about Jarvis. The old Jarvis. The one that held him as a baby. The one that read to him when he couldn’t sleep. The one who sneaked him candy after Howard had had a bad day. The one person in Tony’s entire life, one he can say without an inch of doubt, that loved him unconditionally. Jarvis was Tony’s everything, and he misses him something wicked.   
It’s been a long time since Tony has dreamed about Jarvis. It makes him feel sad. He shakes his head a little to dislodge the thoughts.  
Tony stretches out and slowly opens his eyes. He blinks a few times when he notices several small figurines above his head, one for each of the avengers. Tony tilts his head to the side and reaches up. He can’t touch hem. They’re too far away.  
His hand, he notices, is holding onto a blanket. Logically, this could be impairing his ability to extend his arm as far as physically possible. He tries his other arm. No. That one has a teddy in it. Odd. Where did he get that?  
He twists around. He wants to sit up. Why is it harder than it should be? Tony manages to roll over and pushes himself onto his hands and knees. He’s about to move from the bed when he notices that there are bars surrounding him. Is he in prison? Has he been kidnapped? Who would-  
“You awake, little guy?”  
Oh.  
Tony looks up, and he can see Rhodey looming above him, a soft smile on his lips that radiates ‘safe’. Tony pushes himself back so that he’s sat down, and he sucks on the pacifier. Tony doesn’t think he wants his best friend to see him like this, thank you very much. He quite enjoys his dignity. It’s vaguely permissible with the team, because he barely knows them. Rhodey is a whole different ball game. Rhodey has seen him through the best and worst years of his life. Those years where he’d drink himself into oblivion. The years where he didn’t know who he was, or even if he wanted to be. Rhodey had scraped Tony from the pavement, carried him home and sat with him through his hangover, reminding him that he still had reasons to hang around.  
Rhodey has dealt with so much crap because of Tony, and Tony is grateful for every second of it, but this? Too far. No one should expect Rhodey to do this. It aches at Tony that they tried to fob him off onto him. Did the rest of the team get bored of him already?  
“Tony, I know that look, no matter what face you wear it on.”  
Damn Rhodey and his creepy as fuck mind-reading skills. Rhodey doesn’t fuck around when it comes to Tony’s internal battle this time, much like the rest. He simply reaches into the crib and lifts Tony out.  
“No,” Tony whines, trying to squirm out of his grasp. “No!”  
“Good to see your vocabulary isn’t limited,” Rhodey jokes as he bounces Tony. “Don’t worry. You’ve been worse.”  
Tony frowns at him and hits his collar bone. Rhodey laughs and then very clinically begins to change Tony’s diaper. An act that he is horrified by. He tries to escape, though he doesn’t know where he intends to go. Rhodey rolls his eyes and puts a hand on his stomach to stop it.  
“You’ll fall and hurt yourself. Stop moving.”  
Rhodey’s admonishment stills Tony and Rhodey grins at him. Tony doesn’t fight when a clean diaper is placed underneath him, nor when the body suit is snapped closed. He grumbles a little around he pacifier when he’s picked back up though, because he wants Rhodey to know he’s not been forgiven.  
“We’re going to have breakfast and then Pepper wants to go to the zoo. Says you’ve never been, and you can’t use the lab as an excuse to get out of it this time.”  
Tony does not want to be seen like this. He really, really doesn’t, but he’s learning fairly quickly that there are a lot of decisions that he can’t make for himself any more. Rhodey kisses his forehead, a clear attempt to annoy Tony further, and it works. Tony kicks his legs out, and Rhodey pretends to be seriously hurt. He tumbles to the floor in a controlled fall, putting Tony on his chest as he lays there, tongue lolling out of his mouth and his eyes closed.  
“’tupid,’” Tony mumbles, though he’s smiling.  
“Yeah, well, we can’t all be geniuses,” Pepper says as she lifts Tony from Rhodeys chest and sets him on her hip. “Come on Rhodey. Your death is inconvenient to my plans.”  
Rhodey gives her the stink eyes from his place on the floor and Tony giggles.  
“Oh, Pepper giving me shit is funny, is it?” Rhodey asks, with false offence. “We’ll see if that’s the only thing that can make you laugh.”  
And then Rhodey attacks Tony’s side, tickling until Tony is crying with laughter. Pepper shakes her head and walks away, taking Tony away from the unprovoked attack. Tony puts his head on her shoulder, the last of the giggling still bubbling from inside.  
Maybe Rhodey seeing him like this won’t be as bad as he had thought. The zoo though. That’s not something he’s interested in. He’ll have to think of a way to divert that plan. But later. He’s happy just being in Peppers arms right now, with Rhodey watching over them like a hawk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are always welcome.


	19. Where's the baby?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just one final plotless plot twist before the story comes to a close in two chapters time.

Tony suffers through being fed porridge by Pepper and being dressed by Rhodey. He watches with disdain as Pepper back the diaper bag with diapers, wipes, powder and bottles of baby formula. He smacks away Rhodey’s hands as Rhodey tries to tickle him again. He wants to be grumpy, dammit. Why won’t they let him?  
Next, he’s taken down the garage and placed in a baby seat in one of the cars. Happy gets behind the wheel and then they’re off. Tony complains the entire time. Not using words exactly, but just whining and squirming in the damn chair. Rhodey tries to entertain him by playing with the teddy, but Tony isn’t interested. He wants out.  
He thinks he’s finally won when they all leave the car, but then he’s strapped into a stroller and he makes sure that Rhodey knows just how offended he is by the betrayal. Rhodey doesn’t even look guilty, the bastard.   
“This is going to be fun, Tony,” Pepper assures him. “But if you insist on going in there looking like the world is against you, you’re gonna miss out on all the fun.”  
Happy laughs when Tony tries to give her the best middle finger he can manage, and Pepper just shakes her head at him. Tony feels some vague satisfaction that he can still curse, regardless of how ineffective it is, coming from the body of a baby.   
Slowly, they start to make their way around the zoo. Tony soon forgets to be angry, and he watches the animals with interest. When they reach the aquarium, Rhodey lifts him form the stroller and sets him on his feet in front of the seal tank. Tony stands with his hands pressed flat on the glass. He watches as a seal swims towards him and starts doing flips and spins. Tony is delighted. It’s like the seal is performing just for him.  
Rhodey picks him up and they move onto the other fish tanks. Tony demands to be put down when they reach the shark tank. He stares at them for a long time, marvelling in how vicious they look, their long rows of intimidatingly sharp teeth, and the way their mouths open in a dangerous smile. They remind him of Obie. And remembering Obie scares him.  
He turns around to face Rhodey, his mouth set in a pout and he lifts his hands up. He wants to be away from any reminders of that man. Rhodey obliges easily and rubs his hand up and down Tony’s back in an attempt to take the frown away. When they leave the aquarium, Tony is put back into the stroller, and the teddy is pressed into his arms. He accepts it willingly, finding comfort with his fingers in its fur.  
All-in-all, they’re at the zoo for a good few hours. They stop off at a café where they all eat hamburgers, except Tony. No, Tony is given a damn bottle, even though his eyes stay on the burgers, hunger in his eyes. Happy looks a little regretful at his food of choice, but when he moves to offer Tony a small bite, Pepper smack his hand.  
“He can’t eat that, Happy,” she tells him. “It’ll hurt his stomach.”  
Happy apologises, and Tony whines around the bottles teat in his mouth. He wants the burger! The bottles aren’t half as tasty as a good old cheese burger is. Rhodey tuts at him, and then when the bottle is finished, burps him.   
Pepper then takes him into the bathroom and changes his diaper, cooing at him the entire time. His face burns red, and he hides it behind his teddy. Apparently, Pepper finds this adorable, because she pinches his cheek lightly and kisses his forehead. After lunch, they continue around the zoo. Tony falls asleep somewhere between the bears and koalas.   
When he wakes up again, he’s in his crib. He’s not sure how it’s possible that he slept through all the inevitably happened to get him from the zoo to the tower. He doesn’t think about it too much, though. He just turns over, cuddling close to the teddy and humming as he comes to awareness. He doesn’t want to move any time soon, so he’s quite happy where he is.   
Thankfully, no one comes to remove him from his comfort, and he’s given a good fifteen minutes of time to wake up properly and decide that he’s bored enough to warrant being removed. He uses the bar to pull himself upright and then waits. He would try to climb out, but the bars are far too high, and he doesn’t have the upper body strength for it. Thankfully, before he can even entertain the idea that maybe they’re not coming, Thor comes into the room, all bolster and big smiles.  
“Hello, Älskling,” he says as he steps closer to the crib. “How do you fare?”  
Tony watches as Thor stands at the side of the crib and then lifts him out. He wonders if Thor purposefully speaks like that sometimes, or whether he honestly was brought up to speak in ye olde tongue. From what Tony was aware, Asgardians are taught something called ‘All-speak’ which he assumes means they are fluent in the language of… well, all. So surely, he should know how to speak American.  
“You’re quiet today, young one.”  
Tony winces when Thor squeezes his diaper to see if he’s used it. He has. And so Thor, grinning like it’s the most normal thing in the world to change your baby team mates diapers. Tony decides that he’s not quite feeling up to complaining, so he simply hugs his teddy close to his chest and allows himself to relax under the caring hands of Thor. For all his brashness and largeness, Thor is surprisingly gentle.  
“There we are,” Thor says, as he snaps the romper back at the crotch. “Come now, Clint has missed his playmate.”  
Tony grins at that and leans his head on Thor’s large shoulder as he’s taken into the lounge. He’s gently laid down on the blanket. He looks up and smiles when he finds Clint sat there, waiting for him.  
“You slept for ages. I was bored.”  
Tony giggles and points towards the blocks. Clint knows exactly what Tony wants. He is lifted and placed on Clint’s lap, and together they begin to build a tower, knowing full well that teddy is going to go on a rampage in a few seconds, making them tumble to the floor.  
~  
Rhodey and Pepper sit at the table, having told the rest of the group about their day at the zoo. Clint was quite jealous that he couldn’t go with them, but he’d needed to stay behind with the avengers to fill out piles and piles of paperwork for SHEILD. It was tiresome and annoying, and he wanted to take a nap too, but Natasha pinched his arm when he suggested it.  
Pepper and Rhodey were both blissed out from their day, and Happy has been grinning wildly when he said goodbye. It was a good day all around, and they’re planning more days out, and fixing up a timeline for Tony’s age.   
“We need to pre-order a bunch of clothes for him to wear as he starts to age up. His growing will be fast, and we can’t be going to the store every day to buy him more.”  
Steve nods, and JARVIS inputs that he’s ordering them now. None of them care to offer their fashion preferences. JARVIS probably knows Tony the best, so he’ll likely find things that Tony will be willing to wear.  
“We’ve still got a few hours for today. What do we want to do?” Bucky says, his tone suggesting that he will be involved in their activities.  
“Well, I’ve been thinking about that,” Pepper says slowly. “He’s got a pretty rough fear of water from his time in Afghanistan. I was thinking that, since his mental regression is pretty strong, we could try and see if we can take that fear away?”  
“And we should do something about his fear of being handed things, too,” Rhodey inputs. “And his dire need to prove himself worthwhile. He, more often than not, puts others so far ahead of himself that he suffers sleep deprivation and malnutrition. We can change all that. We just need to be cautious.”  
The team sans Clint start to plan all the different ways that they can start to help Tony with his difficulties.   
An hour later, they’re all in the car, Tony is his much-hated car seat, heading towards a swimming pool. Pepper had called ahead and asked if they could use a private pool without interruption, and after a healthy donation from Stark Industries, they agreed.   
Tony doesn’t know where they’re going, but he’s happily babbling away with Thor, talking about his teddy. Most of it is nonsense, but Thor is putting on an excellent show of understanding. Tony doesn’t seem to care either way. He’s just happy to talk and have someone listen. He’s carried into the building, but it’s not until they’re in the changing rooms that he seems to understand where they are.  
“Hey, it’s ok,” Rhodey promises, as he changes him into a swimming diaper. “We’ve got you. And look, we’ve got a bunch of floaties too. You’ll be perfectly safe here. I promise.”  
Tony still looks scared, but it says something about his trust in Rhodey that he doesn’t object to it. He allows himself to be carried into the swimming pool. When Rhodey walks over to the shallow kiddie pool, Tony grips Rhodey tightly.  
“Right, here we are,” Rhodey says, setting the red Iron Man rubber ring in the water. “I’ll put you in, OK? You won’t sink. Your head will be above water the entire time, OK?”  
Tony takes a few deep breaths, his pacifier a permanent fixture in his mouth, and he loosens his hands on Rhodey. Pepper comes over to sit beside them, and slowly and carefully, Tony is lowered into the floaty. His legs are guided through the holes in the bottom, and Rhodey lets him sit there unaided. Tony feels a flash of panic once he’s let go, but when he realises that he’s not going to drown, he looks up to Rhodey and Pepper in shock.  
“See? You’re safe. We wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe with us, ok?”  
Tony nods, a little uncertainly, and watches as Rhodey and Pepper slide in and lazily sit in the water, which comes up to their ribs. Tony isn’t sure what to do, that much is obvious, but he also isn’t having a panic attack, which, had he been here as an adult, he would have. Rhodey, deciding to throw caution to the wind, cups his hands in the water and squeezes, forcing spurts of water to go flying. Tony watches in amazement, as if it’s the coolest thing he’s ever seen. Never mind that he has the worlds most sentient AI at home. Rhodey making a water gun out of his hands is the feat of a lifetime.  
Tony leans forward in his ring, and Pepper grabs the edge, making sure there’s no chance it’ll flip, and they watch as Tony’s clumsy hands try to copy Rhodey. He can’t make it work, and he gives a frustrated whine. He slaps the water, splashing a little. A few droplets land on his face, but he doesn’t seem to take notice. He continues to splash the water, his eyes lighting up. He then looks at Rhodey and uses both hands to splash Rhodey.  
“I don’t think so, kid,” Rhodey jokes, flicking some water towards Tony.  
Tony bursts into a peal of laughter, and Pepper joins in. They enjoyment Tony takes from it only ends when they hear laughter from the bigger pool. He twists around to look, and he can see the rest of the team playing some high energy version of volley ball. Tony looks to Rhodey and Pepper and then towards the team. His hands drift to his mouth, as though he was going to suck on them, but he’s blocked by the pacifier. He wraps his two fingers around the guards ring, and with his other hand, he points.  
“Are you sure, Tony?” Pepper asks, knowing immediately what he’s asking.  
Tony considers it, his face twisting in adorable concentration, but then his eyes meet Peppers, and he nods. Rhodey and Pepper waste no time. Rhodey lifts Tony out of the rubber ring, and Pepper picks it up. Together they climb from the small pool and move over to the bigger one. Pepper places the rubber ring back down, and Tony is put back into it, his legs kicking in excitement.  
“You coming to play, Tones?” Clint calls, as he bats the ball over to the other side of the net. “You wanna be on my team? I call it the cool team.”  
Tony nods, and Rhodey gently swims towards Clint, pushing Tony ahead of him. Pepper dives under the water and appears on the other side on the pool, next to Natasha, Steve and Bruce. The ball comes sailing back, and Clint grabs it with both hands. He hands it to Tony, who’s arms are far too small to hold it, let along throw it. He doesn’t seem to care though. He screams in joy and then with the help of Clint, hurtles it over the net.  
Within two hours, Tony is happily splashing around in the pool, while everyone else does laps or floats around lazily. It’s perfect for each and every one of them. Nothing to worry about, a blanket of calmness washing them all over. It’s not until Tony starts squirming in his ring that they realize it’s probably time to start making a move.  
“Ready, Tones?” Rhodey asks, pulling Tony towards the edge of the pool.  
“No! Stay!”   
“We’ll come back, I promise, but it’s getting late. You need a diaper change and some food in your belly.”  
Rhodey tickles Tony’s stomach to make a point, and Tony giggles. They all start to climb out of the pool and dry off, before heading home.  
~  
Tony is so tired. So, so tired, but he doesn’t want to go to sleep. Everyone is having so much fun today, and he doesn’t want to miss out on any of the adventures. That’s why, at nine thirty in the evening, after dinner, a bath and being put into a soft romper, Tony is stood up in the crib, crying.  
The avenger’s mobile is pointlessly spinning, music drowned out by Tony’s screams. Teddy is on the mattress, ignored in the midst of Tony’s distress. He hates being left out, and he hates being alone. He wants to sleep, but he wants to not sleep more. Steve, Natasha, Clint, Rhodey and Pepper have all taken their turns trying to get him to sleep. None of them have managed it so far. Their soft rocking, their whispers nursery rhymes, the warm bottles of milk, none of it has worked.   
Next up, Thor.  
“You’re being louder than I am, Anthony, and that is quite the achievement.”  
Tony’s cries taper off, but he keeps crying. He holds his hands up, and without the crib wall to keep him upright, he falls down onto his butt. Thor takes pity on him and lifts him out of the crib. Tony worries that he’s just going to try and rock him back to sleep, but he’s pleased when he’s carried into the lounge. The entire team, plus his best friends, are sat on the sofa.  
“Tony, you’re impossible,” Rhodey says with a tired fondness.   
Tony ignores the comment, just pleased that he’s allowed to join back in the fun. Thor sits on the sofa and lays Tony down in his arms. A gentle hand starts to rub calming rhythms on his stomach, and with the soft sounds of the TV in the background, Tony feels himself starting to drift off. He struggles to keep his eyes open, but when a pacifier is placed in his mouth, and his teddy is tucked into his arms, he finds that he can’t fight it anymore.   
The last thing he sees before his eyes close for the last time that night are the faces of his friends, watching him lovingly. Tony smiles and curls into Thor and falls fast asleep.  
~  
“He’s such a riot,” Clint jokes, as Thor carries him back into the nursery.   
The television switches to the footage of Tony’s nursery. They watch with baited breath and Thor carefully lays Tony in the crib and covers him with the blanket. He stands at the side of the crib for a few moments, and when he’s content that Tony won’t be waking back up any time soon, he returns to the front room.  
“He just wanted to be with us all,” he explains, quieter than anyone has ever heard him. “Loki was always the same. Preferred to fall asleep with his family around him, rather than alone in his room.”  
Clint tenses at the mention of his brother, but Natasha nudges him gently, and the tenseness goes. It’s hard to remain wound up while watching Tony sleep so peacefully. They’ve all had such a long day that it’s no surprise when they all fall asleep on the sofa, listening to Tony’s breathing.  
What is a surprise though, it when they all wake up to the sound of a blaring alarm, and the TV showing an empty crib.  
“Where is Tony?” Clint shouts, jumping up and stumbling over to the nursery.  
But he’s not there. He’s not anywhere. Tony is gone.


	20. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me and reading the fic, even when I was leaving MONTHS between updating. I'm the worst, I know I know.   
> It's been a ball. Can't wait to start posting my next fic.

Loki holds the boy in his arms. He continues to sleep soundly, despite being hastily removed from that loathsome tower. He barely even stirred when he was transported into a small villa on the outskirts of Upsala, Sweden. He does not know why he has taken Tony, but he felt a strong compulsion.  
Maybe it is because he is aware of his mother’s intention to intervene with the spell he had inflicted. Maybe he wanted to see for himself that the boy was unharmed. Maybe he has learnt to care for the Stark man. He is not sure. What he is sure of is that he’s made a grave mistake in removing Tony from the care of the Avengers.  
He knows this because he can feel around inside his head, and a drastic change has come over him since the last time they were face-to-face. He knows instantly that his spell is having a positive effect.  
The last time they met, he had sneaked a peak into the man’s mind as he rambled about the Avengers and justice and something or other. His mind was an ocean of turmoil. Pain borne from negligent parents, fear of betrayal solidified by his last father figure, guilt over the lives taken from the empire he inherited. And exhaustion. The man was so exhausted. With life, with people, with the constant downfall of his trust and the unfairness of the rate at which misfortune seemed to strike.   
Loki had seen it all. Everything that had built the broken man before him. And yet he stood there and waxed lyrical about the faith he had in the so-called Avengers. Loki had noticed at the time that he hadn’t included himself in that list. He noticed that despite him being brave enough to face the man behind the invasion, Tony Stark did not consider himself part of the group that would see Loki to his downfall.  
This man who was built from worse than Loki, and yet there he was, and had been for years before it, risking his life for the pathetic excuse of a race of beings. He had become a hero despite being broken down by them. And there was Loki, a villain. He realised then that what he was doing was wrong. He wanted to repent, somehow, but held too much pride to bow his head and call off the invasion.  
So, he took pity. He subtly cast a spell on Tony and then threw him out of the window. He knew the man would survive. He always did.   
And now, here he is again, gently brushing his awareness against the infant Starks mind. He finds peace and contentment. He finds that his team and his friends have rallied around him and worked to heal his hurts. He is not free of his torments, not yet, but he can see that he will be, soon.  
He had always intended to put Tony back to normal after some time, but time passes differently on mudguard, and before he even though to check, three years had passed. When he heard through Thor that Tony had been living with a criminal in the form of a twelve-year old boy, Loki had done a very cliched slap of his forehead. He realised that when Tony had gone through the portal, the spell had yet to manifest in it’s full capacity. It had been warped and altered, and thus ended with him crash-landing back to earth with a half-finished spell encasing him and no memories of his life before. He had meant for Tony to be four years old, with all of his memories. Old enough to function independently when necessary, but young enough that his mind could still be mouldable.  
When he discovered his mistake, Loki worked to rectify it. He cast a new spell, one which would cause Tony to age down until he reached an age that was better suited for himself those around him to deal with. Which, evidently, was sixteen months old. Loki thinks Tony looks far more agreeable at this age. Less capable of monologuing, which he can appreciate.   
Loki debates his options. It’s unlikely that his team are ignorant to his disappearance, which means they’ll be searching already. However, they likely won’t know where to look. Besides, he does not intend to harm the boy. He just wants to hold him. To watch over him for a while, now that he knows he is faring well.  
He’ll return in an hour. In the meantime, he sends a mind-message to Thor, telling them not to worry.  
~  
“Jarvis, how could you not tell us someone was in the tower?” Clint shouts, as he runs from room to room, searching for Tony.   
“I’m sorry, Sir, but the extraction was done in a millisecond,” Jarvis explains. “One second he was in the crib, and the next he was gone.”  
“How is that possible?” Steve asks, looking all the part of Captain America, but there is a glimmer of panic in his eyes.  
“I will show you the footage,” JARVIS says.  
They all turn to the TV and watch as Tony is laying in his crib one second, and then in the flash of green light, he was gone.  
“Loki,” Thor breathes, sounding disappointed.   
“How do you know?” Natasha asks.  
“I know my brother. He always did enjoy the dramatics. That’s why he has the flash of green light. It’s wholly unnecessary, even if I do not dabble in magic myself, I know that much.”  
Clint has stilled, and he looks like he might burst a blood vessel.   
“He took Tony from us?”  
Clint is about to round on Thor and demand he does something, when Thor’s face goes slack. Steve notices too and clicks his fingers in front of Thor’s face a few times, and when there’s no reaction, they all share a look of horror.  
“What—” Clint begins, but he’s cut off by a heaving sigh from Thor.  
“My brother promises to return Tony soon.”  
They all stare at him, and just as Clint is about to ask how the hell he knows that, Thor begins to explain.  
“Loki and I have a… well, a connection. He does not use it often, not since he learned the truth about our father. But he has just spoken to me. He merely wanted to review the effects of his spell. It seems I was… misinformed about why he did what he did,” Thor sits back down on the sofa wearily. “He wanted to give Tony time to heal. He says that when they first met, Tony’s mind was roiling with trauma and pain. He wanted to help, but my brother is not known for his well-executed plans. He saw this as being the only way. He did not plan for the portal to interfere with it, nor did he anticipate that Tony would not end up in the care of people who cared for him.”  
Thor seems to be uncomfortable with what he’s saying, and Clint wonders if it’s because he’s spent so long seeing only the worst in his brother. Finding out that he tried to do something good, however misguided, is giving him an aneurism.  
“He meant it in good faith. No harm was supposed to befall Stark,” Thor tries to explain again. “He was trying to rectify his mistakes.”  
They’re all silently horrified by this. How can any of them truly believe this? How are they supposed to truth that the man who literally tried to take over the world is doing something selfless to help Tony? Clint for one is dubious of the claim, but he knows better than to speak ill of Loki in Thor’s presence. Despite the fact that they all know Loki is a bad egg, Thor is still fiercely protective of him, and he can grow angry when he hears the team insult him.  
So, Clint holds back. He’s still furious, still fiercely worried, still painfully aware that he’s limited in what he can do in order to bring Tony back to the tower safely. He can only hope that the faith Thor has in his brother yields some positive results.  
Clint sits down next to Thor are waits. Despite the buzz of nervous energy that has entrapped them all, they slowly follow suit. Rhodey and Pepper sit together on an armchair, Pepper on the arm rest and her legs draped over Rhodey’s. Clint has Natasha’s head on his shoulder, Steve and Bucky causally lean on each other. Bruce sits on the floor, leaning against Thor’s legs.  
What only a few hours ago was a calm, happy family unit is now a wake. Each mourning a loss, regardless of how temporary. Clint didn’t know how important it was for them to have Tony around until they’re all without him.  
The silence stretches and stretches, wearing Clint thin, straining his ears. His leg jitters nervously, and his mouth goes dry as he imagines what Tony might be suffering through. He feels like he’s on the verge of snapping, when suddenly the TV lights up with a flash, and then Tony is back in the crib, wide-eyed and staring at the mobile above his head.  
He doesn’t look to be distressed. In fact, he simply attempts to reach up and grab the figurines on the mobile. He’s even smiling beneath the Captain America pacifier. Clint is up and running before anyone else. He bursts into the room, startling Tony. He scoops him up and holds him tightly in his arms.  
Tony looks confused, but he lets it happen without even squirming. When Clint loosens the hug, Tony leans back and looks at him questioningly. Clint reaches into the crib, picks up teddy and walks into the lounge where the rest of the avengers are waiting.  
Tony holds tightly to the bear as he’s passed around the room, looking confused but the amount of attention, but ultimately happy. Clint sits on the sofa when Tony is handed back to him. He needs this closeness, to see with his own eyes that Tony is happy and safe.  
~  
Tony begins to stir in Loki’s arms half an hour after Loki had taken him. He looks so previous as he scrunches up his face in annoyance. Evidently, waking up is a task he cares not to take part in. Loki knows he’s slept long enough that he won’t be tired, but he’ll still be sleepy enough to panic. Loki braces himself for the screaming.  
Tony surprises him, though. When he opens his eyes, he stares a Loki for a long time. Loki stares back, mesmerised by the deep brown eyes and long eyelashes.  
“You truly are adorable,” Loki whispers, rocking Tony from side-to-side, like he had seen mothers do in the palace.  
Tony frowns at him, a look that would have been intimidating had he been older but was simply heart-breakingly cute on his baby face.  
“’oki?”  
“Yes, it is I.”  
Tony takes a few moments to truly process this and then he glares. To be on the receiving end of a ‘glare’ delivered by a baby is strangely enlightening. Loki smiles at him, warmly.   
“Yes, yes, I can see you’re unimpressed, and I promise you’ll be back with your family soon.”  
Tony doesn’t look any more or less pleased by this revelation, and Loki runs a hand over he cheek. His baby soft skin is a delicacy beneath his fingertips.  
“I just wanted to check in on you. I wanted to know how you were doing.”  
Tony responds by being understandably confused. He wriggles in Loki’s arms, but Loki has a good grip on the boy. Tony seems miffed about the circumstances in which he has found himself, and Loki doesn’t blame him. He’d be angry too, were the roles reversed.  
“You’re ok,” Loki says, with an inflection, almost asking it a question.  
Tony seems uncomfortable with the way Loki is gazing at him, but he nods anyway. Loki is satisfied with her answer but isn’t ready to allow Tony to leave his sights anytime soon.  
He uses his magic to conjure some toys for him to entertain himself with, and then Loki sits beside him on a blanket. Tony seems almost shy about playing, and so Loki encourages him into it.  
It takes a few minutes, and a little magical persuasion, but eventually Tony settles and starts to build a tower out of black. Once it’s as high as he can make it, he turns to Loki expectantly.  
“What?” Loki asks.  
“Smash,” Tony garbles. “Teddy smash.”  
Loki is confused, and he wonders if Tony is simply babbling some of the few words he’s regained the ability to utter. However, when Tony starts to insist on ‘Teddy’ Lok conjures up a brown stuffed bear. Tony then points to the tower and demands that ‘Teddy smash’. So, Loki does the only logical thing. He smashes the bear into the tower.  
It seemed an odd game, but Tony’s face lit up when Loki played, and he screamed in delight as the blocks came tumbling down. Tony begged for him to do it every time he built the tower, and he never seemed to lose interest in it. All too soon, it was time for Tony to go back. Loki didn’t want to say goodbye, but he knew that the longer he made the Avengers wait, the more likely they were to start searching.  
So, with a heavy heart, he lifted Tony from the blanket and kissed him on the head. Tony didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye before he was dropped back off in the crib.  
~  
Tony had had a weird day, and a long one at that. Waking up to find Loki looking down on him was not how he expected the day to start. But then, when Loki had created the toys, he was happy enough to teach Loki the game he played with Clint. He was having a nice time, and while he didn’t necessarily trust Loki, he was still saddened to suddenly be in the crib.  
Thankfully, before he was able to decide whether it was worth crying over, he was distracted by the figurines on the mobile. He tried to reach out to grab them again, despite knowing he was no taller than the last time he tried. Then Clint came in, looking frantic and happy and relieved, and Tony was taken away from the figurines and brought into the living room, where everyone was waiting.   
He wanted to ask what they were all doing as he was passed around like a parcel at a birthday party, hugged and cooed over. He was back in Clint’s arms when he realised that maybe they’d noticed his disappearance and were worried about him. He shouldn’t be as surprised as he is. It’s nice that he was missed.  
He snuggles into Clint’s chest, happily taking the bottle when it’s offered to him. He has no qualms with soaking in the affection while it’s being so freely given, and he’s feelings clingy. He kind of never wants to be put down. Clint’s nice and warm and his heart beat is strong, and it helps ease Tony’s anxiety.  
“I thought we could go to the park today, Tony?” Pepper suggested. “And then there’s an indoor fun house we could eat lunch at. Maybe afterwards we can go get ice-cream? And there’s a new movie out that I think you’ll like.”  
Tony nodded to each of Pepper’s suggestions. He wasn’t really listening to her though. He was listening to Clint’s heart, and he was happily drinking milk and thinking about how nice it is that all these people love him and that they want to spend the day with him. For the first time since this whole thing started, he knows that they won’t leave him when he’s big again. He knows they’ll love him anyway. And isn’t that nice? To have a family?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again, guys. I will be doing a sweeping edit at some point, but thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to comment and leave kudos!

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, go ahead. Comment your opinions. I really want to hear them!


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